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THE HISTORY 

American Rea^olution; 



COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE WESTERN WORLD FROM THE 

EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE 

INDEPENDENCE OF THE UNITED STATES. 



BY Wl'^'n'r^^B ART LETT, 

AUTHOR OF "WALKS ABOUT JERUSALEM," "FOOTSTEPS OF OUR LOUD AND HIS APOSTLES, 

"FORTY DAYS IN THE DESERT,'" "THE NILE BOAT," "GLEANINGS ON THE 

OVERLAND ROUTE," "PICTURES FROM SICILY," &C., &C. 



1^ -9>-t^7- 



NEW YORK : 

THE ARUNDEL PRINT. 



Copyright, 1881, 

BY 

JOHN D. WILLIAMS. 



^^1 oQj 



THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



PREFACE. 



Next after the study of Eevealed Truth, that of history has been 
wisely affirmed to be the duty of every man who would discipline his 
understanding, enlarge his sympathies, and look over the wide domain 
of human affairs from the loftiest point of view which it is permitted 
to mortals to attain. The love of liberty to which the Eepublic of the 
United States owes its origin was cultivated under such circumstances 
of profound difficulty, and the stirring scenes of romantic adventure 
that attended the achievement of our national independence on the 
battle-field give the history of the early growth and foundation of our 
country an interest that does not attach to any other. 

This volume narrates the discovery and colonization of the country, 
and the earlier and more momentous disputes regarding its possession ; 
the arbitrary rule of the imperial government of Great Britain, owing 
to which the desire and capacity for political liberty were nurtured, 
and the events of the war by which the Independence of the United 
States was effected. The materials employed in the composition of 



^ PREFACE. 

this history have been for the most part the letters. State papers, 

and records ivhich are the original sources for the yarious periods, 

and special care has been taken to authenticate them before their 
use. 

W. H. BARTLETT. 




4bIL^ 



^"^9 




C-^y'/tC^ ' :iJC9U 



CONTENTS. 



BOOK I. 

FROM THE DISCOVERY OF THE CONTINENT OF AMERICA TO THE FIRST 

INTERCOLONIAL WAR. 

CHAPTER I. • PASB 

Earliest Discoveries in North America.— Sebastian Cabot.— Verezzani. — Corte- 

REAL.— WllLOUGHBT AND ChANCELOUR.— CARTIER AND THE FRENCH IN CANADA.— DIS- 
COVERT or THE Mississippi by De Soto. — The Huguenots and Catholics in Florida. 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Gilbert's Expedition to Newfoundland. — Discovert of Virginia, and First Attempts 
AT its Colonization. — Gosnold's Voyages 23 

CHAPTER III. 

Settlement of New France. — The Jesuits at Mount Desert Island.— Discoveries of 
Champlain. — Foundation of Quebec. — Destruction of Port Royal 49 

CHAPTER IV. 
Voyages and Discovert of Henrt Hudson. — Settlement of New Netherlands. . . 53 

CHAPTER V. 

The Pilgrim Fathers. — Robinson and his Church in England and at Letden. — Nego- 
tiations. — Voyage of the Mayflower. — Hardships and Mortality.— Settlement 
AT Plymouth 57 

CHAPTER VI. 

Colony of Massachusetts Bay. — Preliminary Attempts. — Emigration under Win- 
throp. — Establishment of the Theocracy. — Religious Intolerance. — Roger Wil- 
liams AND Mrs. Hutchinson. — Foundation of Connecticut. — The Pequod War. . 75 

CHAPTER VII. 

Colonization op Maryland by Lord Baltimore.— Its Advantages and Progress.— Dis- 
pute with Clayborne. — Establishment of Religious Toleration 88 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The New England States during the Parliament.— Persecutions op the Baptists 
and Quakers in Massachusetts. — Elliot and the Indians. — General Progress of 

the Northern Colonies 91 

vii 



viii CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Aboriginal Indians. — Their Physical and Mental Characteristics, Customs, 
Manners, Antiquities, and Languages 110 

CHAPTER X. 

Progress op New Netherlands. — Dissolution of New Sweden. — Difficulties with 
Connecticut.— Capture of New York by the English.— Recapture by the Dutch, 
AND Final Cession to England • , . .118 

CHAPTER XI. 

Continuation of the History of Virginia, from the Death of James I. to the 
Deposition of James II 127 

CHAPTER XII. 

Foundation of Carolina. — Locke's System of Legislation found Unsuitable. — Dif- 
ficulties with the Colonists. — Abrogation of the "Grand Model." . . . 138 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Affairs of Massachusetts, from the Accession of Charles II. to the Deposition 
of James II. — Difficulties with the English Government.— War with Philip 
of Pokanoket.— Abrogation of the Charter.— Affairs of the other Colonies. 145 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Foundation of Pennsylvania.— Life of Penn.— Grant from Charles II.— Establish- 
ment op the Colony.— Dispute with the Settlers 164 

CHAPTER XV. 

Progress of New France.— The Jesuits.— Their Discoveries.— Descent of the Mis- 
sissippi.— Expedition of La Salle 172 



BOOK II. 

! FROM THE FIRST INTERCOLONIAL WAR TO THE DECLARATION OF 

INDEPENDENCE. 

CHAPTER I. 

Incidents of the First, Second, and Third Intercolonial, Wars.— "Witchcraft De- 
lusion in New England.— Foundation op Georgia 183 

CHAPTER II. 

General Progress of the Colonies during the Period of the Intercolonial Wars. 
—Massachusetts. — New York. —Pennsylvania. —Virginia. — The Carolinas.— 
Georgia. — Louisiana 204 

CHAPTER III. 

General View of the Colonies before the Revolution.— Religion.— Education.— 
The Press.— Slavery.— State of the Towns and Country.— Militia.— Currency. 
— Post Office, etc 216 



CONTENTS. ix 

CHAPTER IV. PAGE 

Final Struggle between the French and English, terminating in the Conquest 
OF Canada, and the Cession of North America to the British Crown. . . 239 

CHAPTER V. 
From the Conquest of Canada to the Repeal of the Stamp Act 281 

CHAPTER VI. 
From the Repeal of the Stamp Act to the Passing of the Boston Port Bill. . 297 

CHAPTER VII. 
From the Passing of the Boston Port Bill to the Declaration of Independence. 329 



BOOK III. 

FROM THE DECLAEATION OF INDEPENDENCE TO THE CLOSE OF THE 

REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 

CHAPTER I. 

Campaign of 1776.— Battle of Gowanus. — Retreat of Washington- through New 
Jersey.— Engagement on Lake Ticonderoga.— Success at Trenton.— Battle of 
Princeton, etc. . . • 395 

CHAPTER II. 

Proceedings op Congress. — Campaign of 1777. — Battle op the Brandtwine. — Occu- 
pation OF Philadelphia. — Expedition and Surrender of Burgotne. — Battle of 
Germantown. — Conway Cabal.— Winter Encampment at Valley Forge. . . 416 

CHAPTER III. 

Alliance with France. — Lord North's Measures of Conciliation. — Battle of 
Monmouth. — Affair of Newport. — Destruction of Wyoming. — End of the Cam- 
paign OF 1778 . 457 

CHAPTER IV. 

Campaign of 1779. — Reduction of Georgia.— State op the South.— Storming op 
Stony Point.— Repulse of D'Estaing at Savannah. — Affairs in Congress. — 
Paul Jones. — Encampment in the Highlands 468 

CHAPTER V. 

Campaign of 1780.— Capture of Charleston.— State of the Southern Provinces.— 
Battle of Camden. — Arrival of the French under Rochambeau. — Treason op 
Arnold and Execution of Andre. — Franklin at Paeis. — ^Armed Neutrality. . 477 

CHAPTER VI. 

Campaign of 1781. — Mutiny of the Troops. — Greene and Cornwallis ln the South. 
— Investment and Capture of Torktown. — Battle of Eutaw Springs. — Treaty 
OF Peace.— Massacre of Gnadenhutten.— Retirement of Washington. . . .503 



BOOK I. 



FROM THE DISCOVERY OF THE CONTINENT OF AMERICA, TO THE FIRST 

INTERCOLONIAL WAR. 



HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



CHAPTER I. 



EARLIEST DISCOTERIES IN NORTH AMERICA. — SEBASTIAN CABOT. — VEREZZANI. — CORTEREAl. — 
■WILLOtTGHBY AND CHANCELOUR. — CARTIER AND THE FRENCH IN CANADA. — DISCOVERY OF THE 
MISSISSIPPI BY SOTO. — THE HUGUENOTS AND CATHOLICS IN FLORIDA. 

On the shores of the Mediterranean, and in the neighhouring kingdom of 
Portugal, arose, in the fifteenth century, that sj^irit of maritime adventure of 
which the first-fruits were to he the discovery of a New World. The ma- 
riners' compass, invented by a native of the little republic of Amalphi, had 
given an impiilse to navigation, and citizens of Genoa and Florence, the seats 
of reviving art, science, and literature, were the principal pioneers of daring 
and successful enterprise. To find a shorter path to the riches of the East, 
of which Marco Polo had recently given such glowing accounts, Columbus, 
steering boldly across the western ocean beyond the known limits of naviga- 
tion, lighted upon the verge of that vast continent, of the true nature of which 
he died without entertaining a suspicion. To Amerigo Vespucci, the first 
to conjecture its real import, was destined the glory of giving to it a name As 
succeeding adventurers followed up the track, they were astonished at dis- 
covering in INIexico, and in Central and Southern America, states which had 
long subsisted in a high degree of civilization and luxury ; and the accounts 
of the chroniclers who accompanied them teem with expressions of surprise 
at the magnificence of their monuments, the remains of which have been so 
accurately broug'ht before us by recent travellers. 

Not such was then the condition of the northern half of this great continent, 
which was destined to afford a lasting seat to the power and enterprise of the 
Anglo-Saxon race. Along the valley of the Mississippi and its tributaries, 
were scattered, indeed, at wide intervals, the vestiges of p-rior occupation, 
mounds, partly natural and partly improved by art, walls and fortifica- 
tions, exclusively composed of earth, with arms, pottery, and other traces of 
the former occ^^pation of semi-civilized tribes, to which tradition but dimly 
pointed. But the whole sea-board, from the shores of the Northern Ocean to 
the Gulf of Mexico, was entirely destitute even of these rude vestiges, and 



3 EARLIEST EXPLORERS OF AMERICA. [1492. 

tKe vast primeval foi'ests with which it was covered were exclusively occu- 
pied as hunting grounds by the roaming savages of the Red Race. 

Traditions of a discovery of America long anterior to that of Columbus are 
contained in the ancient Chronicle of Glaus, who relates that the hardy Nor- 
wegian rovers who colonized Iceland as early as the year 874, left also 
settlers in Greenland, who, in A. D. 982, launched westward, and finding there 
a milder scat of habitation, and woody valleys overgrown with wild vines, 
gave to it the name of Vinland, supjDOsed to be identical with Massachusetts 
or Rhode Island. Danish antiquaries confidently adduce elaborate, and what 
they consider irrefragable, evidence of this early settlement, and of successive 
visits to the same coasts ; but their opinions, though not without advocates, 
are by no means generally received by American antiquaries, and cannot be 
cited as a portion of authentic history. 

To England justly belongs the claim to the first indisputable discovery of 
the northei'n continent. Her hardy sailors had long acquired their character- 
istic nerve and sinew in buiFeting the stormy seas of their own coasts and the 
neighbouring continent, and even in trading voyages to Iceland. The country 
was emerging from the confusion occasioned by the wars of the Roses iinder 
the prudent and thrifty management of Henry VII. Yet the spirit of intel- 
lectual culture and enlightened enterprise which centred in Italy, Portugal, 
and the Hanse Towns had scarcely as yet penetrated to England, and thus 
we find that, after the success of Columbus had given the first impulse to 
voj^ages of discovery, they were still for some time projected and carried out 
by the agency of foreigners. — " I cannot," says Charlevoix, " dispense with a 
passing remark. It is very glorious to Italy, that the three powers which now 
divide between them almost the whole of America, owe their first discoveries 
to Italians — the Spanish to Columbus, a Genoese, the English to John Cabot 
and his sons, Venetians, and the French to Verezzani, a citizen of Florence." 
Giovanni Gaboto or Cabot, had settled in Bristol, then the second port in 
England; and it is a singular coincidence, that this ancient city, which sent 
forth the first fleet of discovery to North America, should have also 
equipped the famous " Great "Western " steam ship, the first expressly con- 
structed to shorten the communication with that continent, which the lapse 
of three centuries had so astonishingly altered. At this sea-port the expedi- 
tion " was bound and holden only to arrive." The Commission, signed at 
Westminster on the 5th of March, 1495, (in less than two years after the 
return of Columbus from America,) authorized Cabot, with his three sons, 
Lewis, Sebastian, and Sancho, " to seeke out and discover whatsoever isles, 
countreys, regions, or provinces of the infidels and heathen," to set up the 
royal " banners and ensigns in every village, towne, castle, isle, or continent," 
to take possession of them, and to carry on an exclusive trade with the inhabit- 
ants, reserving a fifth part of the profits to the crown. The British merchants 
equipped four vessels ; another, on board of which John Cabot himself cm- 
barked, with his son Sebastian, born to him at Bristol, was furnished by the 
parsimonious monarch. Of their first voyage the records are but scanty — but it 



1497.] SEBASTIAN CABOT. 3 

is certain that they were the real discoverers of the continent of America. On 
the 24th of June/l497, about five in the morning, they fell in with that land 
" which no man before that time had attempted." The land they called Prima 
Vista, or first seen, generally regarded as part of the coast of Labrador, Shortly 
after they reached an island, which, as being descried upon the day of St. 
John the Baptist, they called St. John's Island. Thus England had the glory 
of the first discovery of North America, and acquired such right of preoccupa- 
tion as this circumstance was supposed to confer. 

The enterprise, but timidly encouraged by Henry, was now more vigorously 
pursued. A new patent was granted, and Sebastian Cabot undertook a second 
voyage, in destination and result differing little from the first, save that he is 
supposed to have followed the coast as far southward as Virginia. He is 
reputed to have made a third, but the accounts respecting it are not clear ; 
Robertson and other writers mention but one voyage, and the details given 
by Hakluyt are confused. Mr. Bancroft considers that " the main fact is 
indisputable," that Cabot entered Hudson's Bay, and, still bent on the great 
object ever present to the adventurers of that age, the discovery of a North- 
west passage to " Cathai," which is in the East, the China of which Marco 
Polo had given such glowing accounts, and the " bringing of the spiceries 
from India into Europe." Finding the sea still open, he continued his course 
until he had advanced so far toward the North Pole, that even in the month 
of July he found monstrous heaps of ice floating in the sea, when a for- 
tunate mutiny of his sailors, forcing him to return, in all probability saved the 
intrepid adventurer from destruction. This third voyage from England of 
Sebastian Cabot is supposed to have taken place after he had entered into the 
service of Spain, as pilot major to Charles V., under whose auspices he made 
a vovage into South America. The discovery of a passage to the Indies still 
continued to be the favourite object of his hopes. He suggested to the com- 
pany of merchants adventurers the disastrous enterprise in which Hugh "S^^il- 
loughby and Chancelour perished, which, though it failed in its object, led to 
the discovery of Archangel. This great navigator was more fortunate than 
most of the early pioneers of American enterprise. He lived to escape the 
perils of many voyages, and he died full of years and honours. " Wearing 
old," he says, " I give myself to rest from my travels, because there are now 
many young and lustie pilots and mariners of good experience, by whose 
forwardnesse I doe rejoice in the fruit of my labours." Although he founded 
no colonies in the countries he discovered, he may thus be said to have formed 
a school of intrepid explorers, and by his example and instructions to have 
given a great impulse in England to that spirit of maritime adventure which 
has since become the national characteristic. 

During the long reign of Henry VIII. this spirit continued to gain 
ground among the English, whose expeditions now extended from the sunny 
shores of the Mediterranean to the icy seas of the North. The monarch him- 
self, though too much absorbed by his own selfish passions, his controversy 
with the see of Rome, and the struggle between Charles V. and Francis I., to 

B 2 



4 THE KORTH-EAST PASSAGE. [1554. 

take a lively interest in the progress of discovery, was not altogether neg- 
lectful of the bold adventurers, whose courage and success had already began 
to pronipt the jealousy of Spain. To one expedition to the North-west, at least, 
he lent his " good countenance," as well as some slight assistance. This 
was the voyage of Hore and his conij)anions, related by Hakluyt, from the 
statements of a sole survivor of miseries, so extreme, that many perished 
with hunger ; and others, if his story be true, were reduced to the horrors 
of cannibalism. All attempts at settlement were as yet abortive, but the 
fisheries of Newfoundland, long frequented by the French mariners, were 
also prosecuted by the English with activity and success, so much as to lead 
to parliamentary regulations for their encouragement. 

But the discovery of the passage to India still continued to be the object 
that agitated the hardiest and most sanguine spirits. Sebastian Cabot, unde- 
terred by his own fruitless attemjDts, had, as before observed, proposed a course 
by the North-east, and a company of adventurers being formed, he was ap- 
pointed governor, and framed a set of instructions derived from his own 
experience, the command of the expedition being given to Sir Hugh Wil- 
loughby. " At the first setting forth of these North-eastern discoverers," as 
Hakluyt well observes, " they Avere almost altogether destitute of clear lights 
and inducements, or if they had an inkling at all, it was misty as they found the 
northern seas, and so obscure and ambiguous, that it was meet rather to deter 
than to give them encouragement. Into what dangers and difficulties they 
plunged themselves,". says the old chronicler, "' animus meminisse horret,' I 
tremble to relate. For first they were to expose themselves unto the rigour 
of the stern and uncouth northern seas, and to make trial of the swelling waves 
and boisterous winds which there commonly do surge and blow." The " drifts 
of snow and mountains of ice, even in the summer, the hideous overfalls, un- 
certaine currents, darke mistes and fogs, and other fearful inconveniences," 
which the English adventurers had to encounter, he contrasts with " the milde, 
lightsome, and temperate Atlantick Ocean, over which the Spaniards and 
Portuguese have made so many pleasant, prosperous, and golden voyages, to 
the satisfaction oi t\\Q\v fame-lhirsiy and (jold-iliirsii/ minds, with that reputa- 
tion and wealth Avhich made all misadventures seem tolerable unto them." 
Willoughby and Chancelour were divided by storms, and after doubling the 
" di-eadful and mistie North Cape," the terrors of a polar winter surprised 
them, but with very different issue. The former sought shelter in an obscure 
harbour of Laj)land, to die a fearful and a lingering death. In the following 
spring his retreat was discovered, the corpses of the frozen sailors lay about 
the ship, Willoughby was found dead in his cabin, his journal detailing the hor- 
rible sufferings to which they had been reduced. Chancelour, more fortunate, 
entered the White Sea, and found a secure shelter in the harbour of Archangel. 
Here the astonished Muscovites received their first foreign visitors with great 
hospitality, and Chancelour, on learning the vastness of the empire he had 
discovered, repaired to Moscow, and presented to the czar, John Vasolowitz, 
a letter with which each ship had been furnished by Edward VI. The czar 



1534.] DISCOVERY OF NORTH CAROLINA. 5 

dismissed Chancelour with great respect, and by an invitation to trade v/ith 
his subjects, opened to the English a new and promising career of commerce. 

The French, as avcU as the Enghsh, had entered at an early period into 
the pursuit of the northern fisheries. Even in 1504, the boats of the hardy 
I^orman and Breton mariners were in the habit of visiting the Great Bank, 
and in Charlevoix's time, it was in the memory of the oldest mariners that 
Denys, an inhabitant of Honfleur, had even traced a map of the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence. Francis I., emulous of the additional splendour of renown and 
wealth which the discoveries of the Spaniards bestowed on the kingdom of 
his rival, Charles V., and desirous perhaps of giving the same encourage- 
ment to maritime adventure that he had bestowed on literature and art, 
engaged Juan Verezzani, a Florentine, to explore, on his behalf, new regions 
in the unknown AVest. With a single vessel, the Dolphin, this mariner 
left Madeira, and was the first to fall in with the middle continent of North 
America. The description of his discoveries given to the sovereign who 
had sent him forth, and the earliest ever penned, has all the freshness and 
vivid colouring of a first impression. 

After " as sharp and terrible a tempest as ever sailors suffered, whereof 
with the Divine help and merciful assistance of Almighty God, and the good- 
ness of our ship, accompanied with the good-hap of her fortrmate name, 
(the Dolphin,) we were delivered, and with a prosperous wind followed our 
course west and by north, and in other twenty-five days we made above 400 
leagues more, when we discovered a new land, never before seen of any, 
either ancient or modern." This was the low, level coast of North Carolina, 
along which, illumined at night by great fires, they sailed fifty leagues in 
search of a harbour ; — at length they cast anchor and sent a boat on shore. 
The wondering natives at first fled to the woods, yet still would stand and 
look back, beholding the ship and sailors " with great admiration," and 
at the friendly signs of the latter, came down to the shore, " marvelling 
greatly at their apparel, shape, and whiteness." Beyond the sandy coast, 
intersected " with rivers and arms of the sea," they saw " the open country 
rising in height with many fair fields and plains, full of mightie great woods," 
some dense and others more open, replenished with different trees, " as plea- 
sant and delectable to behold as it is possible to imagine. And your Majesty 
may not think," says the Florentine, " that these are like the woods of 
Hercynia, or the wild deserts of Tartary, and the northern coasts, full of 
fruitless trees ; but they are full of palm trees, bay trees, and high cypress 
trees, and many other sorts unknown in Europe, which yield most sweet 
savours far from the shore." The land he represents as " not void of drugs or 
spicery, and" (with the idea ever uppermost at that time in the minds of dis- 
coverers) " of other riches of gold, seeing that the colour of the land doth so 
much argue it." He dwells upon the luxury of the vegetation, the wild 
vines which clustered upon the ground or trailed in rich festoons from tree 
to tree, the tangled roses, violets, and lilies, and sweet and odoriferous flowers, 
difierent from those of Europe. He speaks of the wild deer in the woods, 



6 FIRST DISCOVERY OF NEW YORK BAY. [1534. 

and of the birds that haunt the pools and lagoons of the coast. But, after 
his rude tossing on the stormy Atlantic, he is beyond measure transported 
' with the calmness of the sea, the gentleness of the waves, the summer beauty 
of the climate, the pure and wholesome and temperate air, and the serenity 
and purity of the blue sky, which, " if covered for a while with clouds 
brought by the southern wind, they are soon dissolved, and all is clear and 
fair again." 

Desirous of taking home some of the natives, Verezzani endeavoured to 
carry off a young woman, " very beautiful and of tall stature," but she suc- 
ceeded in making her escape. This was an ill return for the kindness of the 
unsuspecting Indians, who had saved from destruction a young sailor, nearly 
drowned, and who had given himself up for lost, even when rescued by the 
savaares. Sailincr alonsrthe coast to the northward, the Italian entered the noble 
Bay of New York, — nearly a century before Henry Hudson. He describes 
it as " a delightful place among certain little steep hills, from amidst which there 
ran down into the sea an exceeding great stream of water, M^hich within the 
mouth was very deep, and from the sea to the mouth, with the tide, which we 
found to rise eight feet, any great ship laden may pass up." He did not, 
however, ascend the river, his exploring boats being driven back by a sudden 
squall to the ships. Still sailing to the north, he next notices an island in 
form of a triangle " about the bigness of the Island of the Rhodes," and comes 
to an anchor in " a passing good haven," supposed to be that of Newport. 
There the Indians appeared to him the " goodliest people and of the fairest 
conditions that he had found in his voyage." At sight of his gallant vessel 
tinder full sail, the natural enthusiasm of wonder was awakened in their 
minds, they uttered loud cries of admiration, and fearlessly came off to the 
ship — prudently, however, leaving their females behind them in the canoes, a 
precaution which no persuasion cou.ld induce them to renounce. After 
Verezzani had remained some days among them, he still continued to exploi'e 
the northern coast of New England as far as Nova Scotia, whence he re- 
turned to France. All accounts admit that this was not his only voyage of 
discovery. According to Hakluyt, he was thrice on the American coast, and 
gave a map of it to Henry VIII. His fate, however, is uncertain ; some 
suppose that he perished at sea, or that he was killed in an encounter with 
savages, while others believe that he escaped from all his perils, and found 
an honourable retirement in his native country. 

The discovery of America by Columbus\, in the vain quest of a shorter route 
to the Indies, occurred almost at the same time that Vasco de Gama, by 
rounding the Cape of Good Hope, had ascertained the true passage to those 
glowing climes, to which the attention of the Portuguese was soon afterwards 
almost exclusively directed. Yet one expedition they sent out to the shores 
of North America, commanded by Gaspar Cortereal, who in 1501 ranged the 
coast for several hundred miles, and carried off a considerable number of the 
natives to be sold as slaves, but, like his predecessors, attempted no perma- 
nent settlement. 



1534] VOYAGES OF JACQUES C ARTIER. 7 

The voyage of Vcrczzani was unattentled by any settlement, Francis, 
occupied at home in his struggle Avith Charles V., Avas little disposed to 
engage in fresh attempts, but at the instance of Chabot, Admiral of France, 
Jacques Cartier, an experienced mariner of St. Malo, a small but enterprising- 
fishing town on the coast of Brittany, was appointed to the command of a 
second expedition. Furnished with two small but well-appointed ships of 
60 tons burden, on the 20th of April, 15o4, he reached Newfoundland, 
which he nearly circumnavigated ; then crossing the Gulf of St. Lawrence, 
discovered the Bale des Chaleurs, so called from the intensity of the su.mmer 
heat, equalled only in the Canadian climate by the excessive rigour of the 
winter's cold. Then stretching to the N. W. to find a passage, he landed on 
the point of Gasp^, where, in the presence of many of the natives, he erected 
upon the entrance of the said haven " a faire high cross of the height of 
thirty feet, in the midst whereof," he says, "we hanged up a shield with three 
Fleur de Luces on it, and on the top, carved in anticke letters, this posic — Vive 
le Roy de France." Being, however, unprepared for wintering, he resolved 
to return, and after a swift jD^ssage, reached in September the harbour of 
St. Malo. 

This first -voyage of Cartier, although no settlement was effected by him, 
seemed to open a new career of discovery, which the court of France was now 
more disposed to encourage. The spirit of enterprise gained ground among 
all ranks ; and some even of the young nobility enrolled themselves among the 
adventurers. 

The next expedition was consecrated by the solem.nities of the Catholic 
Church. On Whit-Sunday, the 16th of May, 1535, the whole body confessed, 
and received the sacrament and the episcopal benediction in the cathedral of 
St. Malo. Three well-furnished ships were ready ; the Great Hermina, of 
120 tons, of which Cartier was appointed commander, the Little Hermina, 
of 60 tons, and the Hermerillon, of but 40. They departed " with a good 
gale," and, proceeding to the west, they reached, as Hakluyt calls it, " the 
goodly great gulfe, full of islands, passages, and entrances, with every wind," 
which, from their opening it on the day of St. Lawrence, they named after 
that saint, and entered the " great river of Hochelaga, never before explored," 
which has since received the same appellation of St. Lawrence. 

Cartier anchored awhile in a tributary stream, which still retains his name. 
Many devices were attempted by Donnacona, a chief of the country, prompted 
by jealousy of the other tribes, to prevent him from ascending the river to 
Hochelaga, now Montreal, and at that time a principal Indian settlement. 
But Cartier, penetrating his motives, continued his voyage up the river ; and 
passing through Lake St. Peter's, although struggling with the " fierceness and 
swiftness " of the downward flow, at length attained the desired Hochelaga. 
His arrival created a feeling of enthusiasm among the simple Indians, and his 
landing was a pageant which it is beautiful to realize. " As they stepped on 
shore, they were met by a thousand persons, men, women, and children, who 
' afterwards entertained them, as a father would his child ; ' " their boats, on 



8 C ARTIER AND THE NATIVES OF MONTREAL. [1535. 

returning to the vessels, were loaded with millet, bread, fruit, and other pro- 
visions. The next day, Cartier, " very gorgeously apparelled," attended by 
five gentlemen and twenty sailors, and having obtained three guides, ascended 
the mountain which overhung the Indian settlement. The Avay from the 
shore was broad and well beaten ; and after he had proceeded some distance, 
he was met by one of" the chiefest lordes of the citie," arrayed in barbaric splen- . 
dour, in skins and plunies,who invited him to repose a while around a good fire 
that had been kindled, and entertained him with a discourse " in sign of mirth 
and amitic." In return for his good will, the French commander made him 
a present of hatchets and knives, and a cross which he instructed him to kiss. 
As Cartier advanced higher and higher, his eye reposed with delight upon the 
wide-spread expanse that gradually opened; he. admired the scattered groups 
of oak trees, and the smiling enclosures of bright green Indian corn, the 
noblest of cereal productions. When, at length, he gained the summit of the 
mountain, transported Math the extent and magnificence of the prospect, he 
bestowed on it, in his enthusiasm, the name of Mont Royal. From this com- 
manding elevation he beheld the broad stream of the St. Lawrence, dotted 
with islands, and gay with Indian barks : a vast and level region of primeval 
forest occupied both shores, unbroken but by a fcAv Indian settlements ; above 
this great plain, at intervals, arose groups of bold and insulated mountains, 
extending far toward the southern horizon. It was a ?cene fitted for the seat 
of empire ; and proudly must the heart of its first discoverer have swelled 
as he gazed upon it, and indulged in visions of its future grcattiess. 

At his feet, and joined to the spurs of the mountain, was the pretty Indian 
town of Hochelaga, enclosing in its three courses of ramparts, the fifty 
dwellings of the Indians, each fifty paces long by fifteen wide, neatly built 
of wood covered with fine bark, and having on the top store places for their 
corn. This beaten to powder, and made into cakes baked on hot stones, 
together with pottage, stores of piilse, dried fish, and fruits, especially cu- 
cumbers and melons, formed the simple but abundant food of the inhabit- 
ants. They slept on fine bark covered with skins. As Cartier descended 
into the open space in the midst of the town, the chief came forth to meet 
him, borne on the shoulders often Indians. Seating himself with the French- 
man on a fine deer skin, he took from his own head the wreath whicli served 
as his distinctive badge, and placed it upon that of Cartier. The Indians, 
who invested their visitors with supernatural attribiites, brought forward 
their sick in order that they might be healed. " With the simplicity of these 
poor people," says Charlevoix, " the Captain Avas greatly moved : he armed 
himself with a lively faith, and recited, as devoiitly as he was able, the begin- 
ning of the Gospel of St. John. He then made the sign of the cross over the 
sick, distributed to them chaplets and Agnus Dei, and made them xmderstand 
of how great virtue these were, for the cure of all sorts of infirmities. This 
done, he engaged in prayer, beseeching earnestly the Lord to leave no longer 
these poor idolaters in darkness, and recited with a loud voice the passion of 
Jesus Christ. The Indians listened with vague feelings of awe and devotion 



153G.] C ARTIER' S RETURN TO FRANCE. 9 

to these pious ceremonies, whicli were terminated by a burst of music, wliich 
set them beside themselves with wonderment and joy." 

On leaving the friendly Hochelaga, Cartier returned to his old station at 
the river now called after his name. A tradition existed in the time of Char- 
levoix, that one of his vessels was wrecked upon a sunken ledge, opposite its 
mouth, hence called " Jacques Cartier's rock." Here he passed the long and 
dreary Canadian Avinter, " in ice two flithoms thick, and snow four feet higher 
than his ship's sides ;" and losing many of his people, of all ranks, by the 
ravages of the scurvy. On the approach of summer he gladly prepared to 
return to France ; set up a cross in sign of French occupation ; and, partly 
by force and partly by persuasion, having brought off Donnacona and some 
others with him, he in July, 1536, regained the well-known harbour of St. 
Malo. 

The noble river which Cartier was thus the first to explore, is unique in its 
peculiarities, and perhaps unequalled by any other in the world. The mag- 
nificent lakes, or rather inland seas, of which it is the outlet, which maintain 
the even and unvarying flow of its majestic current, are assumed, upon solid 
grounds, to contain half the fresh water on this planet. The quantity dis- 
charged hourly by this amazing flood, is estimated at 1,672,704,000 cubic 
feet. Its basin is divided into three parts, the higher being occupied by Lake 
Superior, three hundred miles in length, and receiving more than fifty rivers. 
Through the falls of St. Mary, the whole of its waters pour into the Lakes of 
Michigan and Huron, of scarcely inferior dimensions. The almost unfathom- 
able depth of these lakes is a highly interesting phenomenon in physical geo- 
graphy. Though the upper level of the two last is 618 feet above the At- 
lantic, their bottoms are nearly 300 feet below it. By the straits of Detroit, 
these upper lakes pour down into the basin of Lake Erie, which is 230 miles 
in length. This immense body of water rolls incessantly, in its resistless 
might, over the sublime clifls of Niagara, and then for several miles of swift 
descent, through the profound and narrow chasm which it has excavated in 
the course of ages, roars one continuous and terrific rapid, one whirl of foam 
and terror, forming a scene altogether unequalled in sublimity upon our 
globe. By this channel it descends to the level of Lake Ontario, the last and 
lowest of these inland seas, 200 miles long by 70 broad. 

The river, as it flows out of this lake, varies from two to ten miles wide, and 
is divided into numerous channels of every width, as it passes through the 
" Thousand Isles." These are of every size and form, and for the most part 
in a state of primeval nature, forming a scene of soft and romantic beauty, of 
dreamy, fairy strangeness — of fantastic intricacy, in striking contrast to the 
terrific grandeur of Niagara. Hurrying on, with its burden of timber rafts, 
over the tremendous rapids of the Long Sault and La Chine, (which interrup- 
tion is now surmounted by a ship canal,) it is increased by the inflvix of the 
romantic Ottawa, and flows past the city of Montreal, thegrowing emporium of 
Canada, receiving, as it proceeds on its course, the waters of Lakes George and 
Champlain, to expand at length, in all its glory, beneath the crested crags of 

c 



10 EXPEDITION OF LORD ROBERYAL. [1540. 

Quebec. From this city, the great timber depot, it is 550 miles to the sea, 
navigable for ships of the line of the first class, while vessels of 600 tons ascend 
to Montreal, which is upwards of 730 miles above the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 

The whole of this stupendous basin (which, when Cartier first entered it, 
was the haunt of the roaming savage) is fast filling up, and becoming the seat 
of a mighty nation. But three centuries have elapsed since it was discovered, 
yet how much of romantic incident, of momentous change, and of astonishing 
progress, has filled up the short but eventful period ! Upon these lakes, 
then skimmed only by the wandering canoe, hostile fleets have been built, 
and have contended in deadly conflict. On one of its shores feeble colonies 
have sprung up into an independent nation, rivalling in power the proudest 
states of the old world. Populous cities adorn the banks of these great 
inland waters, and splendid steam-boats connect their remotest extremities. 
Canals have been cut to overcome the occasional obstacles presented by 
nature, and a chain cf interr.al water communication, extending from the 
Atlantic many hunuieds of miles into the heart of this mighty continent, 
serves as a highway for the countless emigrants Avho are continually pouring 
into it from all the nations of the civilized world. 

The next attempt at a settlement was made by Francis de la Roche, lord 
of Roberval, a noble/nan of much provincial rejDutation, and called sometimes 
by Francis I. the " petit roi du Vimeu." A simple commission was not suf- 
ficient for a person of so much consideration ; and thus the king, by letters 
patent, invested him with the cheap and high-sounding titles of " Seigneur 
of Norimbega, viceroy and lieutenant-general of Canada, Plochelaga, Sa- 
guenay, Newfoundland, Belleisle, Labrador, the great bay, and Baccalaos, 
(or Newfoundland,) with power and authority equal to his own." With 
him were associated many persons of quality; but the mariner of St. Malo 
was indispensable to the success of the enterprise, and Cartier was thus 
made captain-general and commander of the ships. According to Charle- 
voix, however, either from the delay incurred by Roberval's extensive pre- 
parations, or from some misunderstanding, the force of the enterprise was 
divided, which led to a fruitless result. Cartier, setting sail alone, returned to 
Canada, but added little to his former discoveries, and, being discouraged, 
in the following year returned, entering the harbour of St. John's, New- 
foundland, at the same moment that Roberval arrived there from France. 
A want of concert had existed between them from the beginning, and Cartier, 
unwilling to return to Canada with Roberval, slipped out of the harbour, and 
continued his homeward course. Roberval repaired to the St. Lawrence, 
built one fort on a commanding mountain above the Isle of Orleans, and ano- 
ther at its base, establishing strict discipline among his motley company of 
exiles, many of Avhom, to make up the number, had been ransacked from the 
prisons at home, and had brought their vices Avith them. The result answered 
but little to the pretensions and cost of the adventure, and its disappointed 
author returned to his more solid, if less high sounding, dignities at home. 
Yet all agree, according to Charlevoix, that he was tempted a second time to 



1512.] PONCE DE LEON'S VOYAGE TO FLORIDA. 11 

re-establish himself in his viceregal possessions, accompanied by his brother, 
one of the bravest men in France, and by a numerous company of adven- 
turers. They sailed in 1549, and were never heard of more. 

We must now turn to the progress of Southern discovery. Of all coun- 
tries that inflamed the ardent imagination of the Spaniards who followed 
in the track of Columbus, tempting their "fame-thirsty and gold-thirsty 
minds" with visions of immortal discoveries and boundless wealth, Florida 
was long the chief; and in no point were these lofty anticipations so signally 
falsified. Credulity and avarice, like mocking tempters, lured on -succes- 
sive adventurers to the fatal shore, from which they never returned, or 
returned but to expire in the anguish of disappointed hope. The expedi- 
tions of Ponce de Leon, Narvaez, and Soto, of which but a brief abridgment 
■can be given here, are among the wildest and the most mournful in the history 
of American discovery. 

Juan Ponce de Leon was a veteran Spanish warrior, who had fought against 
the ]\Ioors of Granada, and afterwards against the Indians in Hispaniola, 
under the governor Nicholas de Ovando. Restless for conquest and advance- 
ment, he sought permission to subdue the neighbouring island of Porto Rico, 
where, after many a struggle with the natives, he at length established him- 
self, and amassed considerable wealth. Being, however, superseded in this 
government, he listened wath eagerness, says Irving, to the stories of " some 
old Indians, who gave him tidings of a country which promised not merely 
to satisfy the cravings of his ambition, but to realize the fondest dreams of the 
poet. They assured him that, far to the north, there existed a land abounding 
in gold and in all manner of delights ; but, above all, possessing a river of 
such wonderful virtue, that whosoever bathed in it would be restored to 
youth. Ponce de Leon was advanced in life, and the ordinary term of exist- 
ence seemed insufficient for his mighty plans. Could he but plunge into this 
marvellous fountain or gifted river, and come out with his battered, war-M^orn 
body restored to the strength and freshness and suppleness of youth, and his 
head still retaining the wisdom and knowledge of age, what enterprises might 
he not accomplish in the additional course of vigorous years insured to 
him ! " " The wonders and novelties breaking upon the world in that age of 
discovery almost realized the illusions of fable." Ponce de Leon fitted out 
three ships, and on the 3rd March, 1512, sailed from Porto Rico with his 
band of credulous adventurers. Touching at the Bahamas, among which he 
long sought in vain for the life-giving fountain, he, on the 2nd of April, came 
to anchor off the coast of Florida. The land seemed beautiful as it had been 
described to him, the ground was bright with flowers, from which circum- 
stance, and from having discovered it on Palm-Sunday, (Pascua Florida,) he 
gave it the name which it retains to the present day. 

He landed and took possession of it in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, 
followed the coast for some distance, made various abortive attempts to ex- 
plore the interior, and returned to Porto Rico. He had sought in vain for 
the renewal of his youth, but he had found a new territory, and he now 



12 EXPEDITION AND DEATH OF NARVAEZ. [1526. 

returned to Spain to reap the reward of his discovery. The king created 
him Adelantado of Florida, and intrusted him, moreover, with the command 
of an expedition against the piratical Caribs that harassed the Spanish settle- 
ments. Here he was so unsuccessful that he retired in vexation to Porto 
Eico, where he remained for some years, and gave up all thoughts of further 
adventure. But the exploits of Cortez aroused at length the slumbering spirit 
of Juan Ponce ; he had learned, moreover, that the supposed island of Florida 
was but part of a vast continent, which imagination painted gorgeous and 
wealthy as Mexico ; and, old as he was, he thirsted to explore and subdue it. 
This desire was destined to be fatal to him ; for scarcely had he landed before 
he was wounded in an encounter with the Indians, and returned to Cuba to 
close his career of illusion, and to die in bitterness of soul. 

The Spaniards continued to extend their discoveries and conquests around 
the Gulf of INIexico. Grijalva had explored Yucatan, and brought thence 
those reports of the boundless wealth of Mexico which excited the enterprise 
of Cortez. Vasquez d'Ayllon had made a voyage to the coast of Carolina for 
the seizure of slaves, but no one had renewed the attempt to conquer Florida. 
In 1528, Pamphilo de Narvaez, who had been sent to arrest Cortez in the midst 
of his career of Mexican conquest, and had been easily defeated by him, 
desirous of emulating his wonderful exploits, obtained permission to invade the 
country that was to prove as flital to himself as to its discoverer. With three 
hundred men, he landed at a spot not far from the bay of Appalachee ; instead 
of a wealthy and long-established empire, such as he had expected to find, he 
fell in with a collection of miserable wigwams, in the midst of swamps and 
morasses, which, almost impassable to strangers, afforded to the fierce hostile 
Indians at once the facility of attack and the certainty of retreat. His fol- 
lowers, during six months spent in misery, were wasted away by sickness or 
cut off" by ambush; with a handful of men he reached the coast; despair 
compelled them to venture to sea in such wretched barks as could be hastily 
constructed. Narvaez, with the greater number, foundered in a storm ; others 
were saved only to perish of famine ; few only succeeded, after many years 
of wanderings and hardships, in reaching Mexico. The marvellous accounts 
of Cabeca de Vaca, one of these survivors, were destined to lure on other and 
more gallant adventurers. He persisted so solemnly in his statement about 
the wealth of the countries he had seen, that we are almost tempted to think 
he might really in the course of his wanderings have penetrated into that 
very gold country of California, which is now in the nineteenth century re- 
viving the same spirit that burned in the breasts of the early adventurers. 

Ferdinand de Soto was the son of a squire of Xeres. He went into the 
Spanish settlements when Peter Arias of Avila was governor of the West 
In'dies ; " and there," says the chronicler from whom these details are taken, 
" he was without anything else of his own save his sword and target ; and 
for his good qualities and valour Arias made him captain of a troop of horse- 
men, and by his command he went with Fernando Pizarro to the conquest of 
Peru." Here he was at the taking of Atabalipa, as well as at the assault of 



1538.] DEPARTURE OF DE SOTO FOR FLORIDA. 1-3 

the city of Cusco. Loaded with, the wealth he had acquired, he repaired to 
Spain, appeared at court with great magnificence, obtained the daughter of 
Pedro iVrias in marriage, and ^yvlh appointed by Charles V. Governor of Cuba 
and Adelantado of Florida. Vague stories of the extraordinary wealth of that 
country were already current, when the reports of Cabeca de Vaca, who had 
just returned and pronounced it to be the richest in the world, influenced not 
only the mind of Soto himself, but also of the whole court. Many persons 
of distinction hastened to join him; and already imaginary offices and titles 
were distributed among them. 

The Adelantado departed from Seville to embark at San Lucar, with all his 
company. It was like the gathering to some gay tournament or festival. " The 
Portuguese showed themselves in very brilliant armour," and the Castilians 
" very gallant with silke upon silke ; " all felt as though they were about to 
enter upon the possession of a rich and conquered country. This spectacle 
of such " braveries " liked not Soto, who had shared the perils and hardships 
of Pizarro. He commanded that they should muster in more soldier-like style, 
and from the numerous aspirants selected only a company of six hundred of 
the most promising, with whom he proceeded to embark. 

The voyage was as favourable as the minds of the adventurers were full of 
credulity and hope. On reaching Cuba, Soto sent a caravel and two brigan- 
tines to explore the havens of Florida, and from thence they brought two In- 
dians, as well to serve them for guides and interpreters, as because they said 
by signs there Avas much gold in Florida. At this news, the governor and all 
his company hastened their departure, believing that they were going to "the 
richest country that unto that day had been discovered." 

On Sunday, the 18th May, 1539, Soto departed with his fleet of nine ves- 
sels, and a flilr wind carried them to the coast of Florida, where they went 
on shore, two leagues from a town of an Indian lord called Veita. They 
landed their 213 horses, and with all their force began to march along the 
swampy coast. Never were such splendid expectations so suddenly and sadly 
undeceived ! The Florida Indians appear from the first to have resisted with 
unusual fierceness ; yet Soto, who had triumphed in Peru, confident of the 
issue, sent back the ships to Cuba for provisions. But difficulties thickened 
around them at every step. Their guides escaped ; a party sent to obtain 
others advanced through morasses impracticable for the horsemen, and seized 
some women, upon which thcV were charged by twenty Indians, who forced 
them to return discomfited. They soon discovered that they had no con- 
temptible foes to contend with ; that " before a crossbowman can make one 
shot, an Indian will discharge three or four arrows, and he seldom misseth 
what he shooteth at ; and an arrow, where it findeth no armour, pierceth as 
deeply as a crosse-bow." And when they had at length obtained another 
guide, they found still more serious obstacles in the pestilential swamps, 
marshes, rivers, and pathless and tangled forests that overspread the level 
coast. Provisions failing them, they were often reduced to the half-grown 
stalks of Indian corn, or beet-root sodden with water and salt; privations 



14 WANDERINGS OF BE SOTO AND HIS MEN. [1541. 

embittered by the insane extravagance of their previous expectations. Their 
perils increased as they continued to advance ; their guide fled, and was only 
recovered by being hunted down with bloodhounds. The hostility of the 
Indians was as indomitable as their subtlety was acute. Carried with chains 
and iron collars around their necks to fetch maize, they would often turn upon 
their Spanish guide and slay him, or file away their fetters and effect their 
escape to the woods. 

After travelling many days through a wilderness, the Indians told them 
they could not advance for the water ; and here they first fell in with traces 
of Narvaez's ill-fated expedition. The whole company, in despair, now coun- 
selled the Governor to go back to the port of Spirito Santo, and to abandon 
Florida, lest he should perish as Narvaez had done ; warning him that if he 
continued to advance among trackless morasses, his retreat would certainly be 
cut off. But the proud spirit of Soto would not acknowledge the failure of 
such magnificent hopes ; nor was he as yet undeceived. He declared that 
he would not return till he had seen with his own eyes the truth of the re- 
port of the Indians. 

Thus passed a summer and two winters of lingering misery, Soto sternly 
and inflexibly refusing either to give up his enterprise or allow his followers 
to settle. They adhered to him with devotion prompted alternately by hope 
and by despair. Their thirst for gold tormented them as does the mirage in the 
desert the traveller perishing with thirst, and like the phantom waters, it 
eluded all their research. Their wanderings may with difficulty be traced. 
After their first winter they advanced into the Cherokee country and Georgia, 
then descended to the southward to Mavilla, or Mobile. They desired to 
occupy the town ; the Indians fiercely resisted ; the town was burned in the 
sanguinary conflict, and though the Spaniards were the victors, their bag- 
gage was consumed in the flames. The ships had now arrived with succours ; 
blxt Soto, infatuated by wounded hope and pride, refused to avail himself of 
this last chance of escape. Obstinately nourishing his illusions, he advanced 
into the Checkasaw country, and there wintered. A hundred of his band 
had already perished by war or sickness. After another terrible encounter 
with the Indians, who set on flre the village, burning some of the Spaniards, 
with the remainder of their clothing, and their horses, he obstinately led 
his half-naked followers still farther into the heart of the western wilds. 

At length, after travelling seven days through a desert of marshes and 
thick woods, the people weak for want of food, and their horses miserably 
reduced, they, in April, 1541, approached the banks of the mighty Mississippi, 
rolling through a solitude never before visited by the foot of the white man. 
The scenery around them was wild and strange. Here immense festoons of 
Sj^anish moss trail from the boughs of the dark cypress ; the bear houses himself 
in the hollow of its trunk, while the alligator is seen basking in the mOrass, or 
floating past on some tree that has been undermined by the current. The lofty 
cotton-wood, the fan-like palmetto, the impenetrable cane-brake, are matted 
together, forming a tangled maze of the rankest verdure, which breeds whole 



1541.] HE DISCOVERS THE MISSISSIPPI. 15 

legions of noxioiis reptiles and bloodthirsty mosquitos. The Cacique of the 
country artfully sent a deputation to Soto, to inform him that they had lono- 
ago been informed by their forefathers that a white people should subdue 
them, and promising he would come and pay his obeisances to the Spaniard. 
Soto encamped a short distance from the river, obtained a supply of maize, 
and began to prepare barges for its passage. It spread out before them with 
its wild expanse of turbid waters, of great depth and of powerful current, 
bringing down continually trunks of trees, torn from the tangled forests that 
overhung its banks. " So broad was it," (almost half a league,) " that," says 
the chronicler, " if any one stood still on the other side, it could not be dis- 
cerned whether he were a man or no." The next day they were astonished 
by a splendid and romantic spectacle. A fleet of two hundred canoes bore 
down upon them, their bows and arrows painted, and with great plumes of 
white and many-coloured feathers, having shields to defend the rowers on 
both sides, and the Indian warriors standing from head to stern, with their 
bows and arrows in their hands. The canoe which carried the Cacique had a 
tilt over the stern, and so also had the barks of the principal Indians. From 
under the tilt where the chief sat, he directed and commanded the others ; all 
joined together, and came within a stone's cast of the shore. From thence the 
Cacique said to the Governor, who walked along the river's side with those 
that waited on him, " that he was come thither to visit, honour, and ohej him, 
because he knew he was the greatest and mightiest lord upon the earth, 
therefore he would see what he would command him to do." Soto yielded 
him thanks, and requested him to come on shore, that they might the better 
communicate together. Returning no answer to that point, the Cacique sent 
him three canoes, full of fish and loaves, made of the substance of prunes, like 
imto bricks. And after Soto had received all, he thanked him, and prayed 
him again to come on shore. The Spaniards had been trained to mistrust, 
and, believing that the Cacique's purpose was " to see if with dissimulation 
he might do some hurt — since, when they saw that the Governor and his men 
were in readiness, they began to go from the shore — with a great cry the 
crossbowmen, which were prepared, shot at them, and slew five or six of them. 
The Indians retired with great order, none leaving his oar, though the next 
to him were slain; and shielding themselves, they retired farther up the 
river." 

The Spaniards were filled with admiration at their canoes, " which were 
very pleasant to behold, for they were veiy great and well made, and had 
their tilts, plumes, paveses, and flags ; and with the multitude of people in 
them, they seemed like a /aire armie of gallies." Thirty days of toil were 
consumed in construction of four barges, and Soto prepared to pass the river. 
Three of the barges, each bearing four horses with their riders, some cross- 
bowmen and rowers, led by Guzman, one of the most resolute of the officers, 
determined to make sure the passage, or die. But the Indians offered no 
opposition. The swiftness of the stream obliged the bargemen to ascend a 
quarter of a league higher up the banks, whence falling down with the cur- 



16 DE SOTO CONTINUES HIS WANDERINGS. [15-12. 

rent, they landed just opposite the camp. As soon as those that passed first had 
landed, the barges returned, and within two hours after sun-rise, the Governor, 
with his whole company, stood on the western bank of the Mississippi. 

Soto now advanced into the great unexplored wilderness of the west, 
among j)athless morasses full of hostile Indians, who had watched his move- 
ments, and began to harass his march. The barges, which were compelled to 
keep close to the banks of the river on account of the current, were attacked 
as soon as the horsemen were out of sight. The progress of the Spaniards 
through the swamps and forest was slow and disheartening. Sometimes 
they would pass the Avhole day in the morasses up to their knees, and were 
too happy to find dry ground at evening, " lest they should wander ujd and 
down as forlorn men all night in the water." At length they came to the 
territory of a powerful Cacique, who supplied their wants, and treated them 
with the reverence due to superior beings. Two blind men were brought 
forward, and the Cacique, "seeing that" the Governor "was The Child ot 
the Sun, and a great lord," besought him to restore their sight ; which re- 
quest was earnestly seconded by the sufferers themselves. Soto replied, that, 
"in the high heavens was He who had power to give them health, and that 
this Lord made the heavens and the earth, and man, and suffered upon the 
cross to save mankind, and rose, and ascended into heaven to help all that call 
upon him." He then commanded the Cacique to erect a lofty cross, to wor- 
ship it, and to call upon Him alone v/ho had suffered for them. As he ad- 
vanced, the Indians were still friendly; one of the Caciques gave Soto two 
of his sisters as his wives, and the half-naked Spaniards were now well clad in 
garments and mantles of skins and furs presented by the natives. Soto had 
now lost 250 men and 150 horses, nearly half of his entire force, and he de- 
sired to send to Cuba for reinforcements, still believing that the country de- 
scribed hy Cabeca de Vaca was yet undiscovered. At Auteamque, supposed 
to be on the "Washita River, they passed the winter. Here they lost their 
interpreter Ortiz, which reduced them to the greatest embarrassment. 

The winter had not yet ceased, when Soto, impatient to advance, left 
Auteamque ; sometimes delayed by the snoAv for days, and up to the stirrup 
Avhen trying to advance through the swamps. To reach the sea was now the 
absorbing idea, but where it lay no one kncAV. Soto eagerly inquired for it ; 
the Cacique could give him no intelligence. Mistrusting his report, the 
SjJaniard sent out an exploring party, who, after wandering eight days in 
morasses and cane brakes, returned only to confirm the intelligence of the 
Indians. The spirit of Soto began to give way, — his men were falling around 
him, — chagrin and disappointment threw him into a wasting fever, which 
rapidly consumed his remaining strength. The liostility of the Indians added 
to the perils of his situation. Before he took to his bed, he summoned the 
Cacique of Quigalte to come to him and do him reverence as to the Child of 
the Sun ; but the Indian replied, " If he would dry up the river, he would 
believe him, — that if the Spaniards came in peace, he would receive them ac- 
cordingly ; and if in war, he would not shrink back one foot." This answer 



1543.] HIS DEATH AND BURIAL. 17 

provoked a party to punisli the independence of the Cacique, and a horrid 
massacre of the Indians was the funeral obsequy of the expiring Soto. Yet there 
is something touching in the account of his last hours : he was now, he said, 
about to give an account to God of his past life ; and desired his followers to 
pray for him, thanking them with his last breath for the singular vii'tue, love, 
and loyalty they had displayed towards him. Devotedly, indeed, had his 
fellow adventurers followed him for a long period of misery and discourage- 
ment ; their loyalty had been put to the severest test ; and their sorrow at 
the loss of so brave a com^mander was secretly relieved by the hope that Luys 
de Moscoso, whom he appointed his successor, would give over the disheart- 
ening enterprise and return to Cuba. Thus, on the 21st' of May, 1542, died 
" the valorous, virtuous, and valiant Captain Don Ferdinand de Soto," (as 
the Portuguese Companion calls him,) " whom fortune advanced as it useth 
to do others, that he might have the higher fall." 

Luys de Moscoso determined to conceal his death from the natives, for Soto 
had made them believe that the Christians were immortal, and that he had a 
supernatural knowledge of all that passed among them. The corpse was at 
first interred within the town, but as the Indians suspiciously regarded the spot 
where it lay, it was secretly exhumed, wrapped in mantles full of sand, and 
at midnight sunk in the middle of the river. " The discoverer of the Missis- 
sippi," finely says Mr. Bancroft, " slept beneath its waters : he had crossed a 
large portion of the continent in search of gold, and found nothing so remark- 
able as his burial-place." 

To reach New Spain was now the general desire, but the Spaniards knew 
not whether to embark on the river or to trace its banks. They were ignorant 
of its course, they might be hurried over cataracts or be led into a wrong 
direction, and there were more resources on shore. There, too, they might 
yet realize some of the golden visions which had long tormented them. They 
resolved therefore to go by land, but their resolution only added to the sum 
of their sufferings ; the Indian guides misled them ; tortured or torn by dogs, 
their fidelity to their Caciques was unshaken. After a long and weary 
wandering as far as the skirts of the prairies, the Spaniards regained the 
Mississippi. Dissensions and sickness added to their distress ; the fatal 
report of Cabeca de Vaca still haunted the minds of the more adventurous, 
but the majority determined to build brigantines and to proceed by water, 
though fearing with reason lest it should happen to them as to Narvaez, 
who foundered at sea with his wretched barks. A Genoese who understood 
ship-building was providentially among them ; " without whom," says the 
eye-witness, "they had never come out of that country." With the perse- 
verance of men whose life was on a cast, they toiled till they had completed 
seven crazy brigantines, with which (harassed by the Indians on the way) 
they descended the Mississippi to the Gulf, and creeping cautiously around 
the coast, the forlorn remnant of Soto's gallant company, after losing one o^ 
their vessels in a storm, at length arrived in the river of Panuco, and from 
thence repaired to Mexico. 



18 SETTLEMENT OF HUGUENOTS IN FLORIDA. [1563. 

Three centuries have elapsed since these events took place, and mighty 
changes have taken place in the valley of the Mississippi ! The red races 
which then wandered at will over its tangled forests and boundless prairies 
have gradually receded, while the white have advanced, pushing the outposts 
of their settlements even to the confines of the Rocky Mountains, soon to be 
joined to those of the gold regions of California. This vast country is rapidly 
filling \x\), and forming one compact and stupendous confederation. There is 
just now a mingling of the past and present : the red men still linger upon 
the soil, and traces of their manners, and customs, and superstitions still sur- 
vive, side by side with the evidences of an advancing civilization. 

After tli<e death of Roberval, Francis I. interested himself no further in 
America; and France, during the succeeding reigns of Francis II. and 
Charles IX., shaken to its foundation by civil wars, seemed entirely to have 
abandoned all idea of colonization. Admiral Coligny, desirous at once of 
providing a safe asylum for the persecuted Huguenots, and of sharing in the 
reputed wealth of Brazil, had proposed to Henry II. an enterprise in concert 
with the Portuguese, which, however, terminated unfavourably, from the 
jealousy of the latter. He now turned his attention to Florida, where no ob- 
stacles seemed to oppose his plan of a permanent settlement, to be entirely 
composed of Protestants. And to this plan Charles IX. listened the more 
favourably, says Charlevoix, because he was secretly desirous to purge his 
kingdom of these detested heretics. 

The first expedition sent out by the Admiral was commanded by Jean de 
Eibaut, an experienced naval officer and zealous Huguenot. Leaving Dieppe 
with two ships, in Feb. 1562, he made the coast of Florida. He first entered the 
river of May, now the St. John's, and raised a small column, on which he 
engraved the arms of France. The Jordan, or Combahee, was however his 
object, and running to the northward in search of it, he entered the noble 
harbour of Port Hoyal, where he commenced a settlement, and built a small 
fort, called, after the sovereign of France, Charles Fort, (Carolina,) after which 
the country was subsequently called. Ribaut returned to France to seek for 
reinforcements. In the mean while his deputy neglected to plant crops, and 
his conduct was so overbearing that he was cut off by a conspiracy. To add 
to the distress of the little handful of twenty-six colonists, the fort and maga- 
zines were destroyed by fire, and, with famine staring them in the face, they 
had no alternative but to build a frail vessel and return to France. The fate 
they dreaded on land, befell them on the ocean, — they were reduced to the 
horrors of cannibalism, and such of them as survived were finally picked up 
by an English vessel, which landed most of them in France. 

The civil war which broke out in that kingdom shortly after their depar- 
ture, had prevented the Admiral from attending to his colony. But no sooner 
was a hollow peace established between the contending parties, than he 
solicited the king anew for his assistance, and three vessels and some pecuniary 
assistance were afforded him. Ren^ de Laudronniere, another naval officer 
of merit, who had accompanied Ribaut, was the commander of this second 



1564. j DISCORD IN THE HUGUENOT COLONY. 19 

squadron. Every precaution was taken to insure success and religious unity. 
Several young men of family formed part of the expedition, and some veteran 
soldiers, as well as skilful artificers, were selected, while Coligny took care 
that not a single Catholic should accompany the armament. 

Arrived at the river of May, the savages, repeating often the welcome word 
ami, received them courteously, conducting them to the pillar set up by 
Ribaut, which was crowned with garlands, surrounded with baskets of offer- 
ings, and regarded, as well as the French themselves, with a superstitious 
reverence and respect. Laudronniere ascended an eminence, the sight was 
lovely and inviting, but there were not a few among the adventurers whom 
the thirst for gold, rather than a peaceful settlement, had attracted to the 
enterprise. A bar of silver had been presented by the chief Saturiora to 
Laudronniere ; he eagerly inquired Avhence it came ; the former, engaged in a 
war with a neighbouring chief, would have artfully engaged the assistance of 
the French, promising to conduct them to the shores whence it was extracted. 
Laudronniere, however, wisely determined first to establish a firm footing in 
the country, and as Charles Fort, the settlement of Eibaut, ajDj^eared disad- 
vantageously placed, the colonists decided on placing the new stronghold on 
the lovely banks of the May. " At break of day," says Laiidronniere, " I com- 
manded a trumpet to be sounded, to give God thanks for our safe and happy 
arrival ; we sang a psalm of thanksgiving unto God, beseeching the continu- 
ance of his goodness, that all might turn to his glory and the advancement of 
our king." The prayer ended, every man began to take courage. A fort was 
built, and Laudronniere sent one of the vessels to France, to seek reinforce- 
ments, and carry the news of his success. 

While Laudronniere was endeavouring to extend his knowledge of the 
interior, a mutiny broke out at the fort. The volunteers of family, disgusted 
at being subjected, like the rest, to the toils necessary for the foundation of a 
colony, and others who desired to engage in search for gold, or enter upon 
some enterprise that M^ould enrich them for life, had organized a formidable 
conspiracy. The Governor behaved with prudence and spirit — some were 
sent back to France, others sent to explore the country. But all his pre- 
cautions were vain. A band of insurgents, who had determined upon a 
piratical enterprise against the Spaniards, rose suddenly upon Laudronniere, 
and compelled him, at the point of the dagger, to sign a commission they had 
prepared ; they then departed with two vessels, one of which was lost, the 
other, after diflferent acts of piracy had been committed, was taken by the 
Spanish Governor of Jamaica ; a few escaped in a boat and returned to the 
fort, but these Laudronniere promptly seized and executed. 

In the mean time, the neglect to cultivate the soil had reduced the settlers 
to the utmost distress, and they were constructing barks to return home, when 
they descried four sails, and never doubting but that they were those of vessels 
from France, were giving way to ecstasies of joy, M'hen they discovered that 
the ships were those of an English cruiser. Sir John Hawkins, of evil reputa- 
tion, as having been the first to introduce slaves into America, with a cargo of 

D 2 



20 MELENDEZ UNDERTAKES TO COLONIZE FLORIDA. [15G5. 

which he was then on his way thither. This nefarious commerce was 
not, however, then regarded as infamous ; the English commander, far from 
taking advantage of the miserable plight of the French settlers, behaved 
to them with the greatest kindness. He went to shore unarmed. Lau- 
dronniere received him at a dinner, — a few fowls had been reserved for a 
pressing occasion, bread and wine, which the colonists had not tasted for 
many months, were furnished from the English ships, and this cordial inter 
course so won upon Hawkins, that after furnishing them with provisions, he 
left one of his ships at their disposal, after offering to transport them back to 
France. At this juncture Eibaut suddenly arrived to assume the command 
of the colony, and Laudronniere, against whom complaint had been made, 
determined to return to France. 

It might have been fondly hoped that the newly delivered settlers would 
now have been free from all fear of persecution on account of their religion, 
and that here they would have been permitted to live in peace, but a fear- 
ful doom- was hanging over them, the cruelty which had driven them from 
their homes followed them even on these remotest shores. 

Pedro de Melendez, a Spanish captain, who had served against the Pro- 
testants in the Low Countries, was a man animated by the wildest enthu- 
siasm for the spread of the Catholic faith, and had been actively engaged 
in carrying into efiect the decrees of the Holy office ; his zeal in the pur- 
suit of these objects had gained him the confidence of the court of Spain. 

Philip II. was very desirous of colonizing Florida, to which he laid claim 
as a discovery of his subjects, and which he regarded as a valuable possession 
of his crown. Melendez, who was eager to undertake the work, appeared to 
him a suitable agent. The salvation of the Indians by an enforced reception 
of the Catholic faith, was declared by him, and perhaps with sincerity, to 
be his principal motive for undertaking the enterprise. He was to be consti- 
tuted hereditary Governor of an immense territory, and was to invade the 
country, and furnish forth a body of settlers at his own expense. AVhile en- 
gaged in these preparations, he received news that the Huguenots had an- 
ticipated him in the formation of a settlement, and that Ribaut was on his way 
thither to carry out reinforcements. This circumstance invested the enter- 
prise of Melendez with the additional character of a crusade to exterminate 
heresy, and so many volunteers hastened to join his standard, that he soon 
collected a considerable force, amongst whom were twelve monks of St. 
Francis, eleven priests, a friar of the Order of Mercy, five ecclesiastics, and 
five Jesuits, whose office it was to animate the zeal and inflame to fierceness 
the religious passions of the adventurers. 

The ships of Melendez were scattered by tempests, and it was with but a 
portion of his armament that he reached the shores of Florida. After sailing 
some days along the coast, he landed at the mouth of the river, to which, 
having made land on the day of St. Augustine, he gave the name of that 
Saint. From the Indians he learned that the forces of Pibaut were not far 
distant, and shortly after he fell in with their ships. The French uneasily 



1565.] MASSACRE OF THE LUTHERANS BY MELENDEZ. 21 

inquired his name and purposes. To this he replied, " I am Pedro de 
Melendez, general of the fleet of his Catholic Majesty, Philip II. I am come 
here to hang or put to death all Lutherans whatsoever. My orders are strict, 
and when I am master of your shijDS I shall execute them to the letter. 
If there be among you any Catholic I shall spare him, but for the heretics — 
they shall all die." This atrocious manifesto was answered by the French 
with a burst of indignant- execration, which inflamed the fury of Melendez, 
and he would have ordered the attack on the instant, but was overruled by 
the more prudftit, while E-ibaut retired unmolested with his ships. 

On the return of the Spaniards to the post they had chosen, they proceeded 
with solemn ceremonies to lay the foundations of the town of St. Augustine, 
the most ancient on the soil of the United States. Melendez was ill at ease, 
his force was weak, and he feared lest the French should return with rein- 
forcements, destroy his vessels in the river, and cut ofi" his exposed colonists. 
Neither were his apprehensions unfounded, for the fiery Ribaut, in spite of 
the remonstrances of those who advised him to strengthen his fortifications, 
and not to stake all upon a single cast, determined at once to seek out and 
destroy his enemy. He was already within sight of the Spanish ships, when 
the ebbing tide forced him to suspend his attack, and a sudden hurricane 
drove his vessels out to sea. Melendez was saved; nor did he doubt that a 
special interposition of Heaven had been vouchsafed in answer to the suppli- 
cations of the true believers. Mass was again said and a council called, at 
which he urged that it would be unfaithfulness of the visible succour from 
above to hesitate in the work of exterminating the Lutherans, and he boldly 
proposed to them to surprise the settlement of Laudronniere. His fierce 
enthusiasm triumphed over all opposition, and after struggling four days 
through the pathless swamps, in the obscurity of dawn they drew near to the 
French fort. The watch, xmsuspicious of danger, was negligent ; with a sudden 
onset the Spaniards broke through the feeble ramparts, and indulged their 
religious animosities in a promiscuous massacre. "Women, children, and sick 
persons were involved in the same ruthless butchery. Some who trusted to 
the deceitful promises of the Spaniards were instantly killed, others escaped 
in the confusion, and after lingering among the swamps in sight of their ruined 
settlement and slaughtered comrades, contrived to get on board a French 
vessel in the river, commanded by the younger Ribaut, who, panic-struck, 
insisted on returning to France. The savage Melendez 'had now triumphed, 
the clergy formed a procession in his honour, the cross was borne by priests 
chanting the Te Deum and giving God thanks for the providential circum- 
stances which had at once rescued themselves from peril, and enabled them to 
glorify him by the destruction of the heretics. 

Meanwhile the storm that had prevented Ribaut from attacking the 
Spaniards, after raging for several days, had driven the whole of his vessels 
upon the coast of Florida. With his shipwrecked men he toiled painfully 
along the desolate shore in the direction of his ill-fated colony. Famished 
and exhausted, they at length approached the fort, where their reviving spirits 



22 DE GOURGES DESTROYS THE SPANIARDS. [1567. 

suddenly fell as they beheld the Spanish flag displayed upon its ramparts. 
Though justly dreading to fall into the hands of men whose religion, as they 
well knew, could excuse the breach of promises made to heretics, they 
might yet have indulged the hope that, destitute of every succour as they 
were, the utter wretchedness of their situation Avould move the Spaniards to 
mercy. But the cruel and wily Melendez thirsted for their blood, and longed 
to consummate the extermination of the Huguenots by this final sacrifice. 
No sooner had they, confiding in his ambiguous promises, surrendered them- 
selves, than they Avere marched, with their hands bound, to St. Augustine. 
Melendez, Avith savage satisfaction, drew a line with his sword around them, 
and in this helpless condition they were immediately butchered. Their 
bodies, after being mangled with the wanton ferocity of hate, were then sus- 
pended to a tree, with the inscription, " Not because they are Frenchmen, but 
because they are heretics and enemies of God." 

INIelendez afterwards returned to Spain. Nearly nine hundred Frenchmen 
were supposed to have thus fallen victims to the Spaniards, at a time wheu 
not even a pretence of war existed between their respective countries. 
The spirit of an insulted nation would at once have demanded retribution, but 
that the same bigotry that had prompted the horrid deed Avas rampant in the 
French court, which remained entirely passive. It was even questioned, 
whether they had not privately given notice of Ribaut's expedition to the 
Spaniards. And thus this outrage would have remained unavenged, but for 
the patriotic daring of a private citizen. Dominic de Gourgcs, himself a Ca- 
tholic, had already suffered from the cruelty of the Spaniards. A brave man 
and taken in open fight, he had been ignominiously condemned by them to 
the galleys : the ship in which he was a rower was taken by the Turks, and 
rescued again by the Knights of Malta ; and thus he was restored once more 
to his native soil. He sold his property, and, with the assistance of zealous 
friends, privately equipped three vessels, constructed to ascend the rivers. 
Embarking with eighty sailors and a hundred and fifty soldiers, and provided 
with a roving commission to mask his purpose, it was not till he arrived at 
Cuba that he acquainted his companions with the real object of his expedition. 
In a burning speech, he then reminded them of the atrocious cruelties of the 
Spaniards, of the shameful impunity in which they gloried, and earnestly be- 
sought them to assist him in inflicting that retribution demanded by their 
crimes, and to compass which he had sold his own estate, and embarked his 
all upon the cast. His M^ords excited the patriotic enthusiasm of the whole 
comj)any, and they vowed to follow him to the death. On landing near the 
river May, they found that the natives, already disgusted with the Sjaaniards, 
were ready to co-operate with them in their proposed attack. One of the 
Spanish forts they carried by storm ; of sixty Spaniards who defended it, but a 
handful escaped ; all in the second were slain ; and De Gourges at length 
became master of the whole settlement. Collecting then his prisoners, and 
setting before them the atrocities that had brought down upon them this signal 
retribution, he hanged them upon the same trees to which they had suspended 



15G7.] THE SPIRIT OF ENTERPRISE IN ENGLAND. 23 

the French, with the following superscription, " This I do not as to Spaniards 
or to mariners — but to traitors, robbers, and murderers." 

The object of his expedition accomplished, he returned to La Rochelle, 
where his cou.ntrymen received him with enthusiasm, though the court looked 
coldly on his exploit, and the Spaniards used every interest to effect his de- 
struction. But so brave a subject could not be finally neglected, and he was 
at length about to engage in honourable service, when his gallant career was 
terminated by a sudden death. 



CHAPTER II. 



GILBERT'S EXPEDITION TO NEWFOUNDLAND.— DISCOVEUY OF VIRGINIA, AND FIRST ATTEMPTS 
AT ITS COLONIZATION. — GOSNOLD'S VOYAGES. 

The reign of Queen Elizabeth is the period fixed upon by all writers as 
that wherein the spirit of English enterprise, which had been steadily gaining 
ground, though repressed and interrupted by various discouragements, attained 
a sudden development and became permanently rooted in the national mind. 
" The queen's attentive economy," observes Eobertson, " which exempted 
her subjects from the burden of taxes oppressive to trade, the popularity of 
her administration, were all favourable to commercial enterprise, and called 
it forth into vigorous exertion. Perceiving that the security of a kingdom 
environed by the sea depended on its naval force, she began her government 
with adding to the number and strength of the royal navy ; she fiUed her 
arsenals with stores, built several ships of great force, by all which means the 
skill of English artificers was improved, the number of sailors increased, and 
. the attention of the public turned to the navy, as the most important national 
object." This was further increased by the successful efforts to contend with 
the power of Philip II., bent upon the destruction of Protestantism ; and the 
courage which had foiled the Armada was employed in emulating the exploits 
of the Spanish adventurers, and in intercepting rich galleons laden with 
the new-found wealth of America. Commerce rapidly extended her bound- 
aries, the trade with Russia opened by Chancelour's voyage was followed 
up, and the merchant adventurers penetrated into Persia and the East. But 
the discovery of the North-west passage still continued to be the great object 
by which the more hardy and ambitious mariners sought to attain fame, and 
open a shorter path to the riches of the Indies. Nor had the search after 
gold, fatal to so many adventurers, as yet begun to give place to wise plans 



24 MARTIN FROBISHER AND SIR FRANCIS DRAKE. [1577-80. 

of colonization. The idea of a North-east passage, which at the suggestion of 
Cabot had been vainly attempted by Willoughby, was renounced, and Martin 
Frobisher, an officer of reputation, determined on another attempt to pene- 
trate by the North-west. An argument in favour of its practicability, visionary 
indeed, but full of ingenious acuteness and maritime experience, had been 
written by Sir Humphrey Gilbert. Frobisher was poor ; but at length, 
through the patronage of Dudley, Earl of Warwick, he was enabled to equip 
two small barks and a pinnace. As his little armament dropped down the 
Thames, Elizabeth, from the palace at Greenwich, waved her hand and 
vouchsafed a message of encouragement. In his first voyage he penetrated 
as far as the extremity of Hudson's Bay, and believed that the long-wished- 
for passage was at length to be attained. Some earth that he brought home 
with him appeared to contain gold; avarice supplied what was refused to the 
love of discovery ; and a fleet, among which the queen sent a ship of her 
own, speedily departed to seek for the wealth of Peru among the rigours 
of the Polar seas. It returned bootless, but the illusion was not so easily dis- 
sipated. A larger armament was now equipped; adventurers of all ranks 
hastened to join in so promising a plan of colonization. Amidst all the terrors 
of the Northern Ocean — its fogs, currents, and enormous icebergs, among 
which their vessels were entangled, the vain research was continued; and though 
no colony was established, the ships freighted with the earth containing the 
visionary wealth, returned in the confident belief that the North-west pas- 
sage might yet be attained. Meanwhile, Sir Francis Drake, in the course 
of his circumnavigation of the globe, made another attempt to penetrate 
the opposite side of the continent with no better success. It was on this 
occasion that he touched at and left those golden descriptions of California, 
which have been of late so marvellously verified. 

To these abortive enterprises succeeded plans of colonization, which, 
though far more wisely framed, were destined to prove no less unfortunate 
in the issue. Sir Humphrey Gilbert has already been mentioned as the 
author of a discourse concerning the practicability of the North-west passage. 
He was distinguished as a soldier and a patriot, no less than as a lover of 
geographical science. His motives in the plantation of a colony were those 
of a "virtuous and heroical mind." He had no difficulty in obtaining a patent 
from Elizabeth, framed rather, it must be confessed, in accordance with the 
high notions of authority prevalent in England during the sixteenth century, 
than with more recent ideas of the rights of freemen : — an exclusive right of 
property in the lands he might discover, subject to the payment to the crown 
of one fifth of any treasure that might be found ; the sole jurisdiction, both 
criminal as well as civil, though with the limitation, that whoever settled there 
should enjoy all the privileges of free denizens and natives of England, were 
its principal conditions. He invested a large portion of his property in the 
enterprise, which, owing to dissensions among the volunteer adventurers, 
was a failure from its very commencement ; and when Gilbert at length sailed 
with a weakened armament, he encountered a storm, in which one of his ships 



1579.] EARLY LIFE OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 25 

"was lost, and, it is also supposed, a Spanish squadron of superior force ; dis- 
asters whicli compelled him to return home disappointed but not disheartened. 
We are now, for the first time, introduced to one of the most illustrious names 
of England in connexion with the work of American colonization. " As a 
statesman, a navigator, and a writer of original and varied genius," observes 
Tytler, " Sir Walter Raleigh is connected with all that is interesting in per- 
haps the most interesting period of English history — the reign of Elizabeth ; 
and so much was he the child of enterprise and the sport of vicissitude, that 
he who sits down to write his life, finds himself, without dej^arting from the 
severe simplicity of truth, surrounded with lights almost as glowing as those 
of romance." The younger son of an ancient but not wealthy family, seated 
on the coast of Devonshire, he had early imbibed a love of thd sea, and his 
natural thirst for adventure was excited by his boyish perusal of the glowing 
accounts of Spanish enterprise in America. Distinguished at college for his 
wit and genius, he yet preferred to the pursuits of learning the more exciting 
scenes of war. The Protestants of France, under the Prince de Conde and 
Admiral Coligny, were struggling in defence of their religious liberties. 
Such a cause awakened the sympathy of Elizabeth, who authorized a kinsman 
of Raleigh to raise a troop of volunteers, in which the young adventurer en- 
rolled himself. Having shared in the struggle, he returned to England, 
when the peace of 1576 secured to the French Protestants the free exercise 
of their religion. He next joined the force sent by Elizabeth to assist the 
Protestants of the Netherlands in their endeavour to throw off the yoke of 
Spain. In the midst of these sthring occupations, Raleigh had found leisure 
to study still further the subjects which had engaged his earliest atten- 
tion ; he had probably fallen in with various adventurers who had returned 
from the New World, and, it is supposed, had seen the chart and letters of 
Verezzani. Thus predisposed to embrace the first opportunity that ofiered 
of trying his fortune in schemes of discovery, it is not surprising that he was 
induced by Sir Hunqjhrey Gilbert, his step-brother, to abandon his military 
pursuits for a more dazzling scene of enterprise. 

He is supposed to have accompanied Gilbert on his first voyage, in 1579, 
but a career of courtly favour having opened to him, he was unable to leave 
its pursuit to engage personally in the second, to which, however, he lent the 
utmost assistance in his power, building, at his own expense, and under his 
own eye, the largest ship in the squadron, of 200 tons, which bore his name. 
His growing influence with Elizabeth enabled him to interest her deeply in 
the voyage ; she commissioned him to send a token to Sir Humphrey — an 
image of " an anchor guided by a lady," wishing him as much success and 
safety as if she were there in person, and desiring him to leave his portrait 
for her with Raleigh. This flattering intelligence the favourite conveys in 
a letter from court to his step-brother, now about to embark, " committing 
him to the will of God, who sends us such life or death as he shall please or 
hath appointed." — They were never to meet again. 

How little can courage or conduct insure the result of any enterprise ! 

E 



26 SIR HUMPHREY GILBERTS EXPEDITION. [1583. 

With a fleet of five ships and barks, the Delight, Raleigh, Golden Hind 
Swallow, and Squirrel, in which a large body of men were embarked, Gilbert 
set sail in June, 1583, on his second expedition. On reaching Newfoundland, 
he took possession of it in the name of Elizabeth ; a pillar with the arms of Eng- 
land was raised, and, after the feudal custom, the royal charter was read, and 
a sod and turf of the soil delivered to the admiral. The mutinous and dis- 
orderly conduct of many of his sailors had already been a trying obstacle. As 
they steered towards the south, to " bring the whole land within compass of 
the j)atent," the princijjal ship, owing to their carelessness, struck upon a 
shoal and was totally lost ; nearly a hundred men perishing with her, among 
whom were the Hungarian, Parmenius, (called Budaeus, from his native city,) 
who was to have been the chronicler of the expedition, as well as " their 
Saxon refiner and discoverer of inestimable riches," and the valuable papers 
of the admiral. They now decided on returning home ; the autumnal gales 
were already beginning to render the navigation perilous for such small ves- 
sels ; yet Su- Humphrey, who had sailed in the Squirrel, their " frigate of ten 
tons," contrary to all remonstrance, persisted in remaining with liis brave 
shipmates, rather than go on board the larger vessel. The two ships sailed in 
company, Gilbert from time to time repairing on board the Hind, and en- 
couraging his companions with prospects of future success. The w^eather now 
became frightful ; and the oldest sailors never remembered more mountainous 
and terrific surges. On Monday, the 9th of September, in the afternoon, 
the Squirrel, which was overcharged with artillery and deck-hamper, was 
nearly ingulfed by a heavy sea, from which she escaped as by miracle. As she 
emerged from the watery abyss, a shout of surprise and thanksgiving burst 
from her decks ; and Gilbert, seated on the stern with a book in his hand, 
calmly exclaimed, when the roll of the waves brought them within hearing 
of those on board the other vessel, " We are as near to heaven by sea as by 
land," — the last words he was ever heard to utter. At midnight, the Squirrel 
being somewhat ahead, those on the watch on board the Hind, observing 
her lights to disappear in an instant amidst the blackness of the swell, cried 
out that the general w^as lost — the miniature frigate had suddenly foundered. 
The Hind, after narrowly escaping the tempestuous weather, at length 
reached Falmouth in safety, bearing the disastrous tidings. 

The melancholy fate of his step-brother did not withhold Raleigh from 
following out his scheme of discovery and colonization, for partly from his 
intercourse with Spanish sailors, and perhaps from having seen when in 
France the letter and maps of Verezzani, he Avas induced to turn his atten- 
tion to a milder clime, attained too by a less perilous course of navigation. 
Concluding from different indications that Florida formed but part of an 
extensive continent, he obtained, in 1584, an ample patent from the queen, 
granting him the possession of all the countries he should succeed in discover- 
ing, accompanied with unlimited and despotic powers of jurisdiction, on con- 
dition of reserving to the crown a fifth part of the gold or silver ore which 
might be found. The expedition consisted of two ships, commanded by the 



1584] DISCOVERY OF VIRGINIA BY SIR W. RALEIGH. 27 

Captains Philip Amadis and Arthur Barlow, who, according to the in- 
structions given them by Raleigh, kept to the south-east, and by the cir- 
cuitous route of the Canaries and West Indies, at length approached the ex- 
pected continent, at a season when the blue expanse of ocean lay calm and 
slumbering, and the gay shores, redolent of delicious odours brought oiF by 
the gentle breezes, inspired an intoxicating luxury of sensation. 

" The second of July," says one of the discoverers, " we found shoal water, 
where we smelt so sweet and strong a smell, as if we had been in the midst of 
some delicate garden abounding with all kinds of odoriferous flowers, by which 
we were assured that the land could not be far distant." Keeping good 
watch, and slackening sail, they ran along the coast for a hundred and twenty 
miles in quest of a haven, and entering the first, after " thankes given to 
God for their safe arrival," manned their boats, and went ashore to view the 
country, and take possession of it in the queen's name, and for the use of Sir 
Walter Raleigh, "according to her Majesty's letters patent." They were first 
struck, like Verezzani, with the luxuriance of the wild grapes, so that the 
very beating and surge of the sea overflowed them, and on the green soil on 
the hills and plains, on every little shrub, and climbing towards the tops of 
high cedars, they were equally abundant, " myself," says the narrator, " hav- 
ing seen those parts of Europe that jnost abound, find such difference as were 
incredible to be written." 

On ascending the hills, they found that they had landed on an island, being 
that of Wocoken. Its valleys were filled with the noblest cedars, and having 
discharged their harquebuss, such a flock of cranes arose under them, 
" with a sound as if an armie of men had shouted all together." The woods 
abounded with incredible numbers of deer, conies, hares, and fowl. They 
remained two days before they saw any of the natives, when a small canoe 
with three Indians approached ; one of the natives, fearlessly accosting them, 
was persuaded to go on board, " never making any shew of fear or doubt." 
After receiving some trifling gifts, he went fishing in his bark, and returning 
to the ships, presented them with his load. 

The next day, the king's brother, Granganimeo, visited them with his 
retinue. Causing mats to be placed on the shore, he seated himself to await 
the arrival of the English. " When we came on shore with our weapons," 
says the narrator, " he never moved, nor mistrusted any harm to be ofiered, but 
sitting- still, beckoned us to come and sit by him ; and being set, he made all 
signs of joy and welcome, striking on his head and breast, and afterwards on 
ours, to shew that we were all one, smiling and making shew, the best he could, 
of all love and familiarity. After he had made a long speech to us, we made 
him some presents, which he received very thankfully. None of the others 
durst speak all this time, only the four at the other end spake in one another's 
ear very softly." Such was the first interview between the natives and their 
visitors, presenting a striking contrast to the mutual animosities that too soon 
succeeded. 

After a day or two, a traflic sprung up, and Granganimeo came on board, 

E 2 



28 THE NATIVES ENTERTAIN THE ENGLISH, [1584. 

*' drank wine and eat of our bread," accompanied by his wife, daughter, and 
two or three children. His wife was very handsome, of middle stature, and 
very basliful : she was dressed in furred skins, and her forehead was banded 
with white coral, with ornaments of pearl hanging down to her waist. The 
intercourse now increased, mutual presents were made, Granganimeo sent 
them every day " a brace or two of fat bucks, conies, hares, fish the best in 
the world, and fruits in abundance." A party now went in the boats to ex- 
l^lore, the Island of Eoanoke was discovered, upon which they found a 
villao-e of nice houses built of cedars, and defended with an enclosure of 
sharp trees. Here, says the narrator, " the wife of Granganimeo came running 
out to meet us, very cheerfully and friendly, her husband being absent from 
the village ; some of her people she commanded to draw our boat ashore for 
the beating of the billows, and otiiers to carry them ashore through the surf. 
After having their wet garments dried, and receiving in the outer chamber the 
old oriental hospitality of' washing the feet" by attendant women, they were 
feasted within with " wheat like furmenty, venison, and fish both broiled and 
sodden, and boiled, with herbs and fruits " — the Indian princess " taking 
great pains to see all things ordered in the best manner she could. We 
found the people most gentle, loving, and faithful, void of all guile, and 
living after the manner of the golden age. While we were at meat, there 
came in at the gates two or three men with their bows and arrows from hunt- 
ing, whom when we espied, we began to look one towards another, and 
offered to reach our weapons ; but as soon as she espied our mistrust, she was 
very much moved, and caused some of her menne to run out, and take away 
their bows and arrows and break them, and withal beat the poor fellows out 
of the gate again. When we departed in the evening and would not tarry 
all night, she was very sorry, and gave us into our boat our supper half- 
dressed, pots and all, and brought us to our boat side, on which we lay all 
night, removing the same a pretty distance from the shore. She, perceiving 
our jealousy, was much grieved, and sent divers men and thirty women to sit 
all night on the bank-side by us, and sent us into our boats fine mats to cover 
us from the rain, using very many words to entreat us to rest in their houses. 
But because we were few men, and if we had miscarried the voyage had been 
in great danger, we durst not adventure anything, although there was no 
cause of doubt, for a more kind and loving people there cannot be found in 
the world, as far as we have hitherto had trial." Such was the treatment re- 
ceived by the English visitors at the hands of this countrywoman of the 
generous Pocahontas. 

Satisfied with their discovery, they contented themselves with a very limited 
exploration, and soon after returned to England, carrying with them " two 
of the savages being lustie men, whose names were Wanchese and Manteo," 
the latter of whom figures honourably in the future history of the colony. 

Thus flattering to his judgment and promising to his hopes was the first 
result of Ealeigh's expedition, and Queen Elizabeth, who, no less delighted, 
shortly after bestowed upon him the then rare honour of knighthood, desired 



1584.] SIR RICHABD GRENVILLE IN VIRGINIA. 29 

that the new-discovered country should, in allusion to her state of life, be 
called Virginia ; while a lucrative monopoly for the sale of wines, shortly after 
bestowed upon Sir Walter, enabled him to carry out the settlement of a colony 
on the lands conferred on him by his patent. He now proceeded to fit out a 
squadron of seven vessels, the command of which he bestowed upon his 
relative. Sir Richard Grenville, who had been present at the decisive battle 
of Lepanto, in which Cervantes was taken prisoner, and who afterwards 
closed a life of heroic adventure by fighting with his single ship a squadron of 
fifteen Spanish vessels, for as many hours, till he died covered with glorious 
wounds. The expense of this expedition was shared by other adventurers, 
among whom was Thomas Cavendish, who afterwards circumnavigated the 
globe. It numbered a hundred and eighty men, with Ralph Lane for 
captain and Amadas as Ms deputy, and was accompanied by Heriot, a mathe- 
matician of note, who on his return wrote an admirable account of the country. 
By way of Porto Eico and Hispaniola, (where, owing, as they imagined, to 
their imposing force, they were welcomed and entertained by the Spanish 
governor, at the same time that they were capturing the vessels of that nation 
at sea,) they made, on the 20th of June, the mainland of Florida, and' after a 
narrow escape from shipwreck upon Cape Fear, came, on the 26th, to an 
anchor at Wocoken. Lane was a gallant man, afterwards knighted by Eliza- 
beth for his valour, but he possessed rather the qualities of the ardent 
soldier than of the patient and wary colonist. Hasty in resolve, and " sudden 
and quick in quarrel," his rash and hostile conduct- towards the Indians was 
the source of incalculable miseries, to this and other succeeding expedi- 
tions. But the first deadly offence was given by Grenville himself. A 
party was sent on shore, accompanied by Manteo, and all might have gone 
well, but for an act of hasty revenge, the first probably which tended to arouse 
uneasy and suspicious thoughts in the breasts of the confiding Indians. A 
savage had been tempted to steal a silver cup, its promised restoration was 
delayed, upon which the English "burnt and spoiled their corn and towne, 
all the people being fled." Notwithstanding, on the 29th, Granganimeo 
came on board with Manteo. The colonists being landed, Grenville, after a 
short stay, and the collection of a cargo of pearls and skins, returned to Eng- 
land, capturing on the way a Spanish ship richly laden, " boarding her with a 
boat made with boards of chests, which fell asunder and sank at the ship's 
side, as soon as ever he and his men were out of it." With this j)rize he 
returned to Plymouth. 

After this first experience of their hasty cruelty, the Indians, anxious to 
get rid of the settlers whom they now learned both to hate and fear, began 
to form secret combinations against them. Lane, who was evidently but 
little qualified for his post, being alternately severe and credulous, received 
such information from one of the chiefs, " whose best beloved son," he observes, 
"I had prisoner with me" as induced him to ascend the Roanoke, partly in 
quest of pearls, mineral treasures, and jjartly to explore the interior. The ad- 
venture was disastrous ; the boats made slow progress against the rapidity of the 



30 THE NATIVES CONSPIRE AGAINST LANE. [1586. 

current; the banks were deserted, and no provisions to be obtained; yet all 
agreed not to abandon the enterprise while a half-pint of corn remained for 
eacli man ; moreover they determined that they would kill their " two mastives, 
upon the pottage of which, with sassafras leaves, (if the worst fell out,) they 
would make shift to live two dayes." 

Having been treacherously attacked by the Indians, and having consumed 
the " dogges porridge that they had bespoken for themselves " and returned 
to the river's mouth, and their boats being unable to cross the sound on ac- 
count of a storm " on Easter Eve, which was fasted very truly," they were 
reduced to the sassafras without the animal seasoning, " the like whereof," 
observes Lane, " Avas never before used for a meate as I thinke." The next 
morning they arrived at Roanoke famished and disheartened. 

The natives now were about to resort to the expedient of leaving the lands 
uncultivated, when nothing could have prevented the destruction of the 
English, who had neither weirs for taking fish, nor a grain of seed corn. 
This plan was, however, overruled by one of the chiefs ; — a supply was sown, 
which put the settlers " in marvellous comfort ; " for if they could pass from 
April to July, which was to have been the beginning of the harvest, then a 
new supply from England or their own store would be ready to maintain 
them, fearing only the two intervening months, when, as Lane observed, " like 
the starving horse in the stable, with the growing grass, we might very well 
starve ourselves." But other sources of suspicion arose. Lane believed that 
a wide-spread conspiracy was being organized ; a large body were to assem- 
ble at Roanoke in June, and crush the colonists, whom they still regarded 
with mingled awe and hatred. Whether right or wrong in this belief. Lane 
determined to be beforehand with his enemies, and suddenly ajDjoeared among 
them. He had ordered the master of the light horsemen to intercept their 
canoes ; one of these was surprised ; the Indians took the alarm and flcAv to 
their bows ; the English attacked them with fire-arms, and the chief of the 
dreaded confederacy was killed. 

Scarcely a week had elapsed before Lane received a notice from Captain 
Stafford, stationed at the Admiral's Island, that he had discovered a great 
fleet of three-and-twenty sails, and advising him to stand upon his guard. 
The following day, Stafibrd himself appeared with a letter from Sir Francis 
Drake, the chief of the squadron, who, returning from an expedition against 
the Spanish settlements in the West Indies, with a fleet of twenty-three ves- 
sels, determined to visit the colony of his friend Raleigh, and carry home to 
him some news of its condition. No sight could have been so welcome to the 
weary colonists, surrounded by Indians of whom their bad policy had now 
made deadly enemies, and with famine staring them in the face, unless the 
succours from England, now delayed long past the time appointed, should 
immediately arrive. Drake generously supplied all the more pressing of their 
Avants, gave them pinnaces and boats to survey the coast, with two officers to 
assist in the work, and even a vessel of sufficient burden to convey them to 
England in case of extremity. But everything combined to discourage the 



1586.] LANE AND HIS MEN LEA VE VIRGINIA. 31 

emigrants, already disgusted with the hardships and dangers of a new settle- 
ment. Providence itself seemed to fight against them. A storm of four days' 
duration, from which the whole fleet, exposed on a harbourless coast, only 
escaped by standing out to sea, destroyed the bark and boats appointed for 
them. Deprived of this last resource, and despairing of assistance from Eng- 
land, the dejected settlers unanimously besought Drake to allow them to em- 
bark in his fleet. 

Raleigh, however, had neither forgotten nor neglected them, although the 
promised succours were unavoidably delayed, for scarcely had Lane departed, 
before a vessel arrived bearing ample supplies for the settlement ; but after 
long and vain search, finding no vestige of it, returned from its fruitless 
voyage. Shortly after. Sir Richard Grenville appeared with three well- 
furnished vessels, principally fitted out at Raleigh's expense, and sought anew 
for traces of the vanished colonists. He found the settlement in ruins, yet 
in the face of this discouraging evidence he left behind a little band of fifteen 
men with provisions for two years, a sort of forlorn hope to maintain the claim 
of England and of Raleigh to this " paradise of the world," which had 
hitherto been the source of little but expense and disappointment. 

One thing, indeed, might partly seem to have indemnified Sir Walter for his 
losses and vexation. " It is asserted by Camden, that tobacco was now for the first 
time brought into England by these settlers ; and there can be little doubt that 
Lane had been directed to import it by his master, who must have seen it used 
in France during his residence there. There is a well-known tradition, that Sir 
Walter first began to smoke it privately in his study, and that his servant coming 
in with his tankard of ale and nutmeg, as he was intent upon his book, seeing 
the smoke issuing from his mouth, threw all the liquor in his face by way of ex- 
tinguishing the fire, and running down stairs, alarmed the family with piercing 
cries, ^lat his master, before they could get up, would be burned to ashes. 
And this," continued Oldys, " has nothing in it more surprising than the 
mistake of those Virginians themselves, who, the first time they seized upon 
a quantity of gunpowder which belonged to the English colony, sowed it for 
grain, or the seed of some strange vegetable, in the earth, with full expecta- 
tion of reaping a plentiful crop of combustion by the next harvest to scatter 
their enemies." 

On another occasion it is said that Raleigh, conversing with his royal mis- 
tress upon the singular properties of this new and extraordinary herb, " as- 
sured her Majesty he had so well experienced the nature of it, that he cordd 
tell her of what weight even the smoke would be in any quantity proposrd to 
be consumed. Her Majesty, fixing her thoughts upon the most impracticable 
part of the experiment, that of bounding the smoke in a balance, suspected 
that he put the traveller upon her, and would needs lay him a wager he could 
not solve the doubt : so he procured a quantity agreed upon to be throughly 
smoked ; then went to weighing, but it was of the ashes ; and in the conclu- 
sion, what was wanting in the prime weight of the tobacco, her Majesty did 
not deny to have been evaporated in smoke -, and further said, that ' many 



32 JOHN WHITE FAILS IN MAKING A SETTLEMENT. [1587. 

labourers in the fire she had heard of who had turned their gold into smoke, 
but Raleigh was the first who had turned smoke into gold.' " 

If his plans of colonization had proved ruinously expensive to Sir Walter, 
on the other hand he had derived large supplies from the prizes taken by his 
vessels, and, though pressed with a multitude of important affairs at home, 
he determined upon another enterprise to Virginia. The accounts given of 
its natural beauty by Heriot, had outweighed the influence of the disastrous 
issue of Lane's expedition ; the love of adventure was fast increasing in Eng- 
land, and a body of 150 settlers, for the first time accompanied by women, 
was soon collected together. The mania for gold-hunting was subsiding, and 
the fertility and beauty of the soil wisely led Raleigh, himself a lover of 
agriculture and gardening, to found an enduring state. A city named after 
himself was to be built, municipal regulations framed, and Mr. John "White 
appointed as its governor, to whom, with twelve assistants, he gave a charter 
of incorporation. The body of colonists sailed from Portsmouth on the 26th 
April, 158T, and on the 22nd July anchored off the coast. They were no 
sooner arrived, than they hastened to Roanoke Island, in quest of the fifteen 
settlers left behind by Grenville. But these unfortunate men had been 
doomed to expiate the mismanagement of those who preceded them, and who 
had sown the fatal seed of hatred and suspicion in the Indian breast. Their 
huts were dismantled, wild deer were feeding on the melons and herbage 
which had overgrown the ruins — and their scattered bones were whitening 
on the beach. They had fallen an easy and a helpless prey to the vengeance 
of the Indians. 

Such a sight must have appalled the new settlers, and might well have 
appeared a presage of the doom which too surely awaited themselves. For 
widely different were the feelings with which they now landed in Virginia, 
from those which had animated its discoverers. Then all was fair and pro- 
mising ; the beauty of the country was only equalled by the unsuspecting 
confidence and kindness of the natives. That confidence had been converted 
into the deadliest hate, which had already compelled the disastrous retreat of 
the first expedition, and proved fatal to its successor. No wonder that dis- 
sension ere long broke out among the new colonists ; that the sanguine de- 
sired a more promising scene of enterprise, and others were desirous of re- 
turning home. Raleigh had designated the bay of Chesapeake as the site of 
his new city ; but the governor was compelled to remain at Roanoke, and 
repair the buildings of the murdered colonists. INIanteo, the faithful ally of 
the English, had received Christian baptism, and the investiture of " Lord of 
Roanoke:" his kindred joyfully welcomed the settlers. But a disastrous 
accident had occurred. An Ensclish sailor who had ijone fishins: havincr been 
murdered by a band of hostile savages, White, ofuided by Manteo, with a body 
of men all bent on vengeance, stole by dark upon a body ot Indians, poured 
in a volley among them, and then found, to their horror, that they had at- 
tacked a party of their own allies. Little progress could be made in the work 
of colonization under so many discouraging circumstances ; supplies and re- 



1590.] RALEIGH ASSIGNS HIS RIGHTS. 33 

inforcements "srere eoon needed ; and the emigi'ants besought White to return 
to EngLand and obtain them, while not a few determined to go back in his 
company. It was in the midst of these disasters that the governor's daughter, 
INIrs. Eleanor Dare, the wife of one of the assistants, gave birth to a daughter, 
the first child born of English parents on the soil of North America. The 
ill-fated infant was named after the colony, Virginia. The governor, yielding 
with reluctance to the general importunity, leaving behind him eighty-nine 
men, seventeen women, and eleven children, together with his daughter and 
grandchild, whom he was never to see again, at length set sail for England. 

But political events, as well as miserable casualties, conspired together 
to prevent his returning to succour his forlorn colony. On reaching Eng- 
land, he found the M^hole nation engrossed in its defence against the 
Spanish Armada, in which Sir Walter Raleigh bore so conspicuous a part. 
Amidst danger so imminent, and during a contest for the honour of the 
sovereign and the independence of the country, it was difficult to attend to 
a less important and more remote object. Yet Raleigh actually despatched to 
their assistance two vessels, but the ships' company were infected with the 
spirit of privateering, the issue was against them, their ships were disabled, 
and White had the misery of returning to England at a moment Avhen he 
must have felt that any delay would be fatal. And so indeed it proved, for 
Avhen, in 1590, he was at length enabled to go again in search of his colonists 
and daughter, it was only to mourn over their irreparable loss. When he step- 
ped again upoi> the fatal shore of Roanoke, nothing remained, beyond their 
ruined habitations, and a cross inscribed with the word " Croatan," to tell the 
fate of those whom he had left behind. This inscription suggested that the 
lost colonists had perhaps taken refuge with the Indians, of which a tradition 
afterwards existed, but though research was more than once made by suc- 
ceeding, voyagers, at the instigation of Raleigh, no trace of them Avas ever 
afterwards discovered. White and his discouraged companions were com- 
pelled to abandon the idea of a settlement. 

A fatality seemed to hang over Virginia, the colonization of which had 
commenced under such glowing auspices. Raleigh had now, during several 
years, sent out various expeditions, at a fruitless expense of forty thousand 
pounds, and a sad sacrifice of human life. It is not surprising that, with 
diminished resources, he should be ready to assign his rights of property and 
patent, with large favourable concessions, to Sir Thomas Smith and a coriipany 
of merchants in London, as he was now engaged in other schemes, especially 
that of penetrating into the heart of Guiana, where he fondly dreamed of 
repairing his shattered fortunes by taking possession of inexhaustible wealth 
flowing from the richest mines in the New World. His schemes were abor- 
tive and ruinous to his own interests, posterity was to reap the advantage, and 
to repay him for his sacrifices with an inheritance of lasting glory. The time 
was not yet ripe for a permanent state in Virginia which should embalm the 
memory of its founder and call its chief city after his name. The London 
companv attempted no settlement of importance, but confined itself to a secure 



34 THE ENGLISH FIR8T VISIT NEW ENGLAND. [1603. 

and limited traffic, and thus, after a period of a hundred and six years 
from the time that Cabot discovered North America, and twenty from the 
time that Raleigh planted the first colony, there was not a single Englishman 
settled there at the demise of Queen Elizabeth, in the year one thousand six 
hundred and three. 

Yet, in 1602, the last year of that reign, the voyage made by Bartholomew 
Gosnold, who set out with a small bark to make a more direct course to the 
settlements .in Virginia than that by the Canaries and the West Indies, 
was destined to have an important influence on the fate of that unfor- 
tunate colony. After sailing seven weeks, he reached the coast of Massa- 
chusetts Bay, and keeping to the south in search of a harbour, landed on 
the promontory of Cape Cod, so called from the quantity of that fish taken 
there, and the first spot in New England ever trodden by English foot. 
Bounding the coast, and doubling " Point Care," or Sandy Point, the mariners 
reached Nantucket, and passing the promontory of Gay Head, which they 
called Dovei* Cliff, they entered the stately sound of " Buzzards Bay," which 
they called Go'snold's Hope. On the westernmost of the islands that studded it 
they determined to settle. They bestowed on it the name of Elizabeth ; and 
finding a small lake of fresh water, in the centre of which was a rocky islet, 
they fixed upon it as the site of a fort and storehouse, built with the stones 
from the neighbouring beach, and of which traces, now no longer discover- 
able, were seen by Belknap, in 1797. They were delighted with the noble 
vegetation, the luxuriance of the scented shrubs, the abundance of the wild 
grapes and strawberries ; and, in the first impulse of their satisfaction, deter- 
mined to remain there. But the smallness of their number, surrounded as 
they were with the Indians, the want of provisions, and the recollection of 
what had befallen the hapless settlers in Virginia, with the dissensions that 
sprung np, induced them, shortly after, to return to England. They arrived 
in less than four months from the time of their departure, without having 
suffered from any sickness ; and spread on all sides most favourable reports 
of the soil and climate of the new-discovered lands, while the new course 
they had held was shorter by one third than any by which the shores 
of America had been previously attained. 

A concurrence of circumstances so fortunate was not slow in re\iving the 
dormant spirit of emigration. The accession of James I. was speedily fol- 
lowed by peace between England and Spain, the ardent spirits who had en- 
gaged in the struggle thirsted for a new scene of enterprise, and desired employ- 
ment for their hands and scope for their vices, while " sundry people mthin 
the realme distressed" were compelled to seek in the plantations of the New 
World for that subsistence denied them upon their native soil. Men of mer- 
cantile enterprise and geographical science became interested in the reports of 
Gosnold, and the merchants of Bristol were easily induced to equip two ves- 
sels to follow up the discoveries so happily commenced. The most active 
and efficacious promoter of this scheme was Bichard Hakluyt, prebendary 
of AVestminster, to whom England is more indebted for its American posses- 



160G.] JA3IES I. FRAMES A CODE OF LAWS. 35 

sions than to any man of that age," and a man, as Mr. Bancroft observes, 
" whose fame should be vindicated and asserted in the land he helped to 
colonize." Formed under a kinsman of the same name, eminent for his naval 
and commercial knowledge, he imbibed a similar taste, and applied early to 
the study of geography and navigation. In order to excite his countrymen to 
naval enterprise, he published, in 1589, his valuable Collection of Voyages and 
Travels made by Englishmen, and translated into English some of the best 
accounts of the progress of the Sj^aniards and Portuguese. Consulted with 
respect to many of the attempts towards discovery or colonization, he corre- 
sponded with those who conducted them, directed their researches to proper 
objects, and published the history of their exploits. By the zealous endeavours 
of a person equally respected by men of rank and men of business, many of 
both orders formed an association to establish colonies in America, and peti- 
tioned the king for the sanction of his authority to warrant the execution of 
their plans. 

The " Speedwell " and " Discoverer," thus sent forth to authenticate the 
report^ of Gosnold, confirmed them entirely, and, together with succeeding 
adventurers, visited the coast of Maine. Thus, in 1606, had the whole line 
of the American coast, with trifling excej)tions, been traced from the shores of 
Labrador to the Gulf of Mexico. The bold and hardy pioneers of discovery 
had done" their noble work, the first explorers, " the forlorn hope " of civil- 
ization, had made their graves in the new-found world, and the time was at 
hand when a new impulse was to be given to the spirit of colonization, and 
states were to be built up that should take a lasting possession of that great 
continent, the refuge of the persecuted and the asylum of the distressed, the 
stronghold of liberty for all succeeding generations. 

The English monarch, who had already turned his attention to improving 
the wilder parts of Scotland by the introduction of civilized colonies, listened 
readily to proposals which flattered his imaginary skill in the science of 
government ; he granted an ample charter to the company, and set himself to 
the congenial work of framing a code of laws for their especial regulation. 
His own prerogative was of course paramount. In these the regulations were 
cumbrous and unsuitable ; the superintendence of the colonial proceedings 
devolved upon a council in England, exclusively nominated by the monarch ; 
the local administration was confided to a council in the colony itself, whose 
appointment and continuance in office equally depended on the royal plea- 
sure. The emigrants themselves possessed not a shadow of self-government, 
and with the general reservation of their rights as Englishmen, were placed 
under a system equally impolitic and arbitrary. Individual enterprise was 
also paralysed, by a regulation that for five years at least the industry and 
commerce of the colony were to be conducted in a joint stock. The same 
conformity in religion enforced at home in order to check the growing spirit of 
Puritanism and religious liberty, was strictly enjoined in the colony. Com- 
mercial regulations, on the other hand, were encouraging ; no duty was to be 
imposed upon imports necessary for the support of the colonists for a period 

F 2 



86 EMIGRANTS FOUND JAMESTOWN. [1606. 

of seven years, they were free to trade with other nations, and the duties levied 
on foreign commodities were to be employed for their own benefit for twenty- 
one years, after which period they reverted to the king. The tenure of land 
was also of the most favourable character. 

The extensive territory now discovered and claimed by the English was 
granted to two companies. " That portion of North America which stretches 
from the thirty-fourth to the forty-fifth degree of latitude, was divided into 
two districts nearly equal ; the one called the first or South colony of Vir- 
ginia, the other the second or North colony. Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George 
Summers, Richard Hakluyt, and their associates in London, were empowered 
to settle any part of the former, with a right of property for fifty miles along 
the coast from the place of their first habitation, and reaching a hundred miles 
into the interior. The latter district was allotted to a company formed of 
sundry knights, gentlemen, and merchants of the West of England. 

The preparations of the company Avere not answerable to the greatness of 
the territory conceded. A single vessel of a hundred tons, and two barks 
luider the command of Captain Newport, were all that their means enabled 
them to fit out ; the number of emigrants was but one hundred and five, of 
whom but a small proportion were practical mechanics ; and the remainder, 
among whom were a son of the Duke of Northumberland and other men of 
family, but little fitted for the foundation of a colony. Many were " of tender 
education and no experience of martial accidents, expecting feather-beds and 
down pillows, taverns and alehouses, gold and silver and dissolute liberty, 
persons inflated with the importance of ofilcial situations multiplied in ridi- 
culous disproportion to an infant colony, projecting, verbal, and idle con- 
templators," as they are called by Smith, who, from his practical sense and 
the natural ascendency given by genius and experience, soon became the 
object of jealousy and proscription to the rest. The voyage was a scene of 
contention, which there was no authority to subdue, since the king, with that 
refinement of sagacity that he so loved to affect, had ordered that the box con- 
taining the names and instructions of the council should not be opened till 
after their arrival in Virginia. Four months were consumed by Newport's 
choice of the passage by way of the Canaries. On reaching the dangerous coast 
of Virginia, a fortunate gale, before which they were obliged to scud under 
bare poles, drove them to the northward of the old settlement, into the mouth 
of the spacious and magnificent bay of the Chesapeake : its southern and 
northern headlands were respectively called Cape Henry and Cape Charles, 
after the sons of the king, and Point Comfort was so called from the sheltered 
anchorage it afiforded for their ships. This noble inlet, with its safe roadsteads 
and expanding shores, excited their admiration, and sailing up and exploring 
James River for a distance of fifty miles, they determined that here, and not 
at Roanoke, it behoved them to lay the foundation of their infant settlement, 
to which they gave the name of James Town — the oldest toA\Ti founded by the 
English in the New "World, as were Annapolis and St. Augustine, by the 
French and Spaniards. 



1G07.] EARLY ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITE. 37 

When the memhers of the council were ascertained, they proceeded to 
choose Wingfield president, and displayed at once their incapacity and jea- 
lousy by meanly excluding Smith, who was one of those named, upon the 
pretext of sedition. His eminent qualities and practical activity had galled 
the envious and disturbed the slothful. No man possessed in a more re- 
markable degree the energy required in the founder of a colony, or had 
become more inured to a life of peril and adventure. 

From his very childhood he had a roving and romantic fancy, and, at thir- 
teen, sold satchel and books, and all that he had, to raise money to go to sea. 
At this juncture his father died, and he was left to the care of guardians 
more intent on improving his estate than him. By them he was bound to a 
merchant at Lynn, but not being sent, as he desired, to sea, he found means 
to go to France in the train of a son of Lord Willoughby. Hence, after be- 
coming initiated into warlike exercises, he repaired to Scotland in the hope 
of advancement, but returned disappointed to his native village of Willoughby. 
Here, finding no one of the same wild humour as himself, he retired, with 
Quixotic eccentricity, into a solitary glade surrounded with thick woods, built 
himself a pavilion of boughs, and occupied himself with a Marcus Aurelius, 
and Machiavel on the Art of War, and with the exercises of his horse and lance. 
Withdrawn from this solitude, his restless genius hurried him on the conti- 
nent. After a strange variety of adventures, he embarked at Marseilles for 
Italy, a storm arose, the trembling pilgrims cursed him for a Huguenot, and 
threw him overboard, like Jonah, to allay the tempest. He swam to a wild 
island, whence he was taken oiF by a French rover, who treated him with 
kindred gallantry of spirit : they fell in with and captured a rich Venetian 
ship, and Smith, set on shore with his share of the prize, found himself in a 
position to indulge his wandering humour. After visiting Italy, he went to 
Vienna, and entered himself as a volunteer against the Turks. His skill and 
bravery soon led to his promotion. At the siege of a strong town, a Turkish 
officer issued a challenge to single combat, and Smith was the fortunate cham- 
pion to whom it fell by lot to vindicate the honour of the Christian chivalry. 
He slew his opponent, as well as two others who desired to avenge his death, 
the Duke of Transylvania settled on him a pension, and gave him letters of 
nobility, with a shield bearing three Turks' heads for his arms, which were 
confirmed afterwards in the Herald's College in England. 

At the fatal battle of Rottenton, he was left for dead, and only recovered 
to be sold as a slave. A certain pasha bought him as a present to a favourite 
mistress of Tartar origin — young and handsome, he excited the interest and 
attachment of his possessor, who sent him to her brother to be treated kindly, till 
" time should make her mistress of herself." The brother misused him with 
such cruelty that Smith, in a fit of passion, beat out his brains. He fled into 
Russia, and after a variety of adventures, found again at Leipsic his former 
patron, the Duke of Transylvania, who treated him with much honour and 
made him a considerable present. 

Though anxious to return home, the ruling passion led him into fresh ad- 



38 THE COLONISTS FEAR STARVATION, [1C07. 

ventures. After visiting Germany, France, and Spain, lie passed over into 
Africa, where he had hoped to be engaged in service, visited the court of 
Morocco, and on his return by way of France to England, in a French galley, 
shared in the perils erf a most desperate engagement with two Spanish men of 
war. Finding liis native country in a state of tranquillity, and opening no 
prospect for his adventurous and erratic genius, he willingly embarked with 
Gosnold in the scheme for settliiiG: colonies in Virginia. 

A soldier of fortune in an age of licence. Smith was singularly free from 
the vices with which that profession was stained. He was neither actuated 
by sordid avarice nor disgraced by selfish debauchery. " He hated baseness, 
sloth, pride, and indignity more than any danger. He would suffer want 
rather than borrow, and starve sooner than not pay. He loved action more than 
words, and hated falsehood and covetousness more than death. Distinguished 
for his courage, he chose rather to lead than send his soldiers into danger, and 
upon all hazardous and fatiguing expeditions always shared everything 
with his companions, and never desired them to do or undergo anything that 
he was not ready to do or undergo himself." Unlike most of the adven- 
turers of that age, his courage never degenerated into cruelty towards the 
Indians ; it was rather by dauntless bearing, clever and often humorous ex- 
pedient, and moral influence, that he overawed or beguiled them into sub- 
mission. While his love of discovery found scope in exploring the unknown 
boundaries of the Chesapeake, his management of the domestic interests o\ 
the colony was full of practical good sense. His energy gave to it life and 
subsistency, and his loss was its ruin and destruction. " In short," says his 
biographer, " he was a soldier of the true old English stamp, who fought not 
for gain and empty praise, but for his country's honour arid the pubHc good ; 
and, with the most stern and invincible resolution, there was seldom seen a 
milder or more tender heart." 

The absurdity of the plea for ruining Smith was too transparent, and at the 
instance of Hunt, the excellent chaplain to the expedition, he was soon restored 
to his office, and proceeded in the midst of every discouragement to labour 
for the good of the colony. Foremost in enterprise, in company with New- 
port, he ascended James Eiver, visited Powhatan, the chief of the country, 
who received them with a display of barbaric pomp. The savages from the 
first regarded the settlers with suspicion and dislike, and watched their op- 
portunity to attack them. After the return of Newport with the ships, the 
situation of the colonists became every day more perilous, and their sufferings 
more severe. The long voyage had made serious inroads on their stock of 
provisions, and they were soon reduced to extremity. " Had we been," says 
Smith, with the humorous buoyancy that never abandoned him in the midst 
of difficulties, " as free from all sins as from gluttony and drunkenness, we 
might have been canonized for saints. But our president never would have 
been admitted, for engrossing to his private use oatmeal, sack, oil, aquavUa, 
beef, eggs, or what not, but the kettle— Z/ja/ indeed he allowed equally to be 
distributed, and that was half a pint of wheat and as much barley, boiled Avith 



1G07.] POCAHONTAS SAVES SMITH'S LIFE. 39 

water, for a man a day, and tliis, having fried twenty-six weeks in the ship's 
hold, contained as many worms as grains ; — our drink was water ; our lodgings, 
castles in the ayre." Even these illusions were soon bitterly dispelled. The 
major part, unaccustomed to labour, and compelled to work under the burning 
heat in cutting and planting palisades for the fort, soon sunk under their toils 
and privations, — the hostile Indians hung like a cloud over their spirits, dis- 
content and dissension added to the cup of their sufferings, and fever, bred from 
the rankness of the soil and heat of the climate, fatally assisted by mental 
depression, made such ravages, that before the autumn one half of the colony 
had perished. The selfish Wingfield, who had attempted to escape to the 
West Indies, had been deposed ; his successor, Eatcliffe, was incompetent to 
rally the sinking colony, and those qualities of Smith that had formerly ren- 
dered him the object of general envy, now marked him out for the post of re- 
sponsibility and peril. He nobly answered to the summons, and after com- 
pleting the fortifications of James Town, marched in quest of the treacherous 
and hostile Indians. Some tribes he gained by caresses and presents, others 
he openly attacked, and, by persuasion or force, compelled them at once to de- 
sist from hostilities and also to furnish a supply of provisions. Enabled thus to 
leave the settlers in James Town in a state of comparative security and 
plenty, he turned his attention to the exploration of the Chickahominy, in 
pursuance of an order from the council to seek a communication v/ith the 
Southern sea. On this expedition he was surprised by the savages, his men 
killed, and in endeavouring to pass a swamp, he sunk to the neck and was com- 
pelled to surrender. In this extremity, his presence of mind did not desert 
him; he astonished the Indians with a pocket compass, and so dazzled them 
with accounts of its mysterious powers, that he was conducted by them with 
mingled triumph and fear from tribe to tribe, as a remarkable being whose 
character and designs they were unable to penetrate, in spite of all the incant- 
ations of their seers. At length he was conducted to Powhatan. The politic 
chief, seated in the midst of his women, received him with a display of bar- 
baric ceremony'; the queen brought him water to wash his hands, and another 
person a bunch of feathers to dry them, and whilst he was feasted they 
proceeded to deliberate upon his fate. Their fears dictated the policy of his 
destruction, he was suddenly dragged forward, his head jslaced upon a large 
stone, and the club already uplifted to dash out his brains, when Pocahontas, 
" the king's most deare and well-beloved daughter, a child of twelve or thirteen 
years of age," after unavailing and passionate entreaties for the life of the 
white man, so noble a being to her youthful imagination, ran forward and 
clung to him with her arms, and laying her head upon his own, disarmed the 
savage fury of his executioners. The life of the wondrous stranger was pre- 
served, his open and generous character v/on not only the heart of the young 
Pocahontas, but that of her brother Nantaquaus, " the manliest, comeliest, 
boldest spirit ever seen in a savage." By the promise of " life, liberty, land, 
and women," they now sought to engage Smith in an attack upon the co- 
lonists, but his address and influence turned them from the project, and he was 



40 SMITH EXPLORES CHESAPEAKE BAT. [1607. 

at length dismissed with promises of support and amity. Like a tutelary genius 
the loving Indian girl, after saving the life of their chief, " revived the dead 
spirits " of the colonists by her attention to their wants, bringing every day 
with her attendants baskets of provisions, so that, the enmity of the savages 
disarmed, and a supply of food obtained, " all men's fear was now abandoned.'* 

For Smith, on his return from the captivity Avhich brought with it such 
beneficial results, had found the colony reduced to the brink of destruction, 
and about to be abandoned by the miserable handful of forty men who remained 
out of those who had landed. This desperate expedient was prevented by his 
energetic remonstrance, and at length Newport made his appearance with a 
supply of necessaries, and another company of adventurers. Its composition 
was as unfortunate as that of the preceding — to the dissolute and helpless crew 
that formed the majority, was added a leaven of the old disease, the plague of 
" guilded refiners with their golden promises ; no talk, no hope, no work, but 
dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold, such a bruit of gold that one mad 
fellow desired to be buried in the sands, lest they should make gold of his 
bones." All this arose from the accidental discovery of some shining mineral 
substance, which credulous imagination converted into auriferous sand ; and 
while the cultivation of the land was neglected, Newport returned to England 
wath a cargo of the visionary treasure. 

Smith now undertook, in an open barge of three tons' burden, the explor- 
ation of the immense Bay of the Chesapeake, the dim receding shores of 
which seemed to open a temjjting and noble field of discovery. The event 
was more answerable to his anticipations, than to the very limited means at 
his command. During three months he visited all the countries on the eastern 
and western shores, ascended many of the great tributaries that swell that mag- 
nificent basin, trading with friendly tribes, fighting with those hostile, observ- 
ing the nature and productions of their territories, and leaving behind him 
by the exercise of ready tact and of dauntless intrepidity, unstained by a 
single act of crvielty, a high impression of the valour and nobleness of the 
English character. After sailing in two successive cruises above three 
thousand miles, in contending with hardship and peril and the discourage- 
ment of his companions, whose complaints he humorously silenced by a 
reference to the expedition of Lane, and the " dogges porridge " to which he 
had been reduced, he succeeded in bringing back to James Town an account 
of the provinces bordering on the Chesapeake, with a map that long served as 
the basis of subsequent delineations. 

On his return from this important expedition, in the autumn of 1608, Smith 
w^as elected president of the council ; and by his provident acti^'ity, although 
but thirty acres of ground were cleared and cultivated, no distress was felt. 
Meanwhile, Newport returned with seventy new settlers, but of the same un- 
suitable character. It was no easy task for the new president to enforce 
among so mixed a company the steady industry necessary to the very existence 
of their struggling colony ; although foremost in every labour, his example 
inspired emulation, and his firmness overawed the dissolute and contentious. 



1G09.] THE GOVERNMENT OF THE COLONY. 41 

At this juncture a change took place in the constitution of the company. At 
the solicitation of Cecil and other parties in power, the king made over to the 
council the powers he had formerly exercised, while the jurisdiction of that 
in Virginia was abolished. Empowered thus to establish what laws they 
judged best for the state of the colony, and to nominate a governor to carry 
them into execution, the council in London obtained the absolute control of 
the lives and fortunes of the colonists. The grant of such extensive and 
direct powers attracted many personages of eminence, and eventually intro- 
duced a firmer administration. The first deed of the new council was to 
apjioint Lord DelaAvare, whose virtues adorned his rank, as Governor and 
Captain-general of the colony. Sir Thomas Gates and Sir George Summers 
were authorized to administer its affairs until his arrival. Under such aus- 
pices, an expedition of unusual magnitude might have been expected ; nine 
vessels, under the command of Newport, containing more than five hundred 
emigrants, were soon on their way out. The prosperity of Virginia seemed 
placed at length beyond the reach of danger. An unforeseen accident inter- 
rupted their sanguine expectations ; a violent storm arose ; the vessel on board 
of which were Gates, Summers, and Newport, was separated from the rest, 
and after a narrow escape from foundering, was stranded on the coast of the 
Bermudas, where, however, all were preserved. The rest of the ships, with 
one exception, succeeded in reaching James Town in safety. 

"While these events were proceeding, Smith had been engaged in main- 
taining order and security among the little band of colonists. The sudden 
arrival of so considerable a reinforcement disconcerted all his arrangements. 
The new immigrants were " unruly gallants, packed off to escape ill destinies 
at home," men of broken fortunes and unsteady habits ; the actual govern- 
ment was void, the fate of the new governor uncertain, the provisional 
authority of Smith doubtful and contested, and everything tended to the 
speedy dissolution of their little society. Union alone could insure their de- 
fence against the Indians, whose jealousy of their encroachments was steadily 
gaining ground, but every day their dissensions increased. Powhatan, checked 
at times by the ascendency of Smith, at others formed plans for cutting them 
all off. In these distresses and perils Pocahontas still proved herself the 
guardian angel of the unruly colonists ; and, " under God," as Smith declared 
in a letter to the queen of James I., " the instrument for preserving them from 
death, famine, and utter confusion. When her father," he observes, " with 
policy sought to surprise me, having but eighteen men with me, the dark 
night could not affright her from coming through the irksome woods, and 
with watery eyes gave me intelligence, with her best advice, to escape his 
fury, which, had he known, he had surely slain her." While disunion thus 
exposed the settlers to Indian treachery, the want of concerted industry, 
and the rapid consumption of their stores, soon threatened them with all the 
horrors of famine. Although his authority had been superseded. Smith still 
continued, from a feeling of public spirit, to wrestle with the factious colonists, 
and to hold the helm until the arrival of his siiccessor. But at this critical 



42 THE ARRIVAL OF LORD DELAWARE. [1611. 

period, when all so rapidly tended to the wildest anarchy, an accidental ex- 
plosion of gunpowder, which inflicted a dangerous and tormenting wound, 
compelled him to return to England, to seek for that surgical aid which Vir- 
ginia was unable to afford. It is difficult to picture the sufferings that ensued 
after his departure ; so rapid was the catastrophe, that in less than six months 
of inconceivable misery, remembered long after as the " starving time," of 
five hundred persons whom he had left in Virginia, all but sixty were cut 
off by vice, disease, and famine. In a few days longer the whole of them 
must have perished, had not an unexpected succour arrived in their utter- 
most extremity. 

This Avas the unlooked-for appearance of Gates and Summers from the 
Bermudas. They had not lost a single person on their shipwreck; they 
had happily succeeded in saving their provisions and stores ; and while the 
colonists of Virginia had suffered the pinchings of want, the spontaneous 
bou.nties of nature had richly supported them for many months. Anxious to 
rejoin their companions, they constructed two crazy vessels, and were for- 
tunate enough to reach Virginia in safety. They were horror-struck at the 
appearance of the few surviving colonists, who, finding that their stores would 
last but for sixteen days longer, resolved to abandon the hated shore which 
had witnessed their prolonged miseries, and even to consume the town on 
their departure ; an act of insane folly which was happily prevented by Gates. 
On the 7th of June, at noon, they embarked in four pinnaces, and fell down 
the river with the tide. Next morning, before they had reached the sea, 
they were startled with the sudden appearance of the long boat of Lord 
Delaware, who had just arrived at the mouth of the river with ships and re- 
inforcements. By persuasion and authority he prevailed upon the melancholy 
band to return, half reluctanctly, to the scene of their sufferings, in the hope 
of better times. 

Twice was Virginia thus saved from destruction by the energy and joru- 
dence of a single individual. The first act of Lord Delaware was to pub- 
lish his commission, and to consecrate his functions by the solemnities of re- 
ligion. It was an affecting scene — that assemblage in the rude log-built chapel. 
The hearts of the colonists were full, the arrival of the governor seemed to 
them like a special deliverance of Divine Providence. They took courage to 
grapple with the difficulties of their situation, and soon found them to give way 
before their determined energy. The mingled firmness and gentleness of the 
new governor imposed upon the factious, and won over the dissolute and 
refractory. A regular system was established, and every one cheerfully sub- 
mitted to his appointed share in the labours of the day, which were regvilarly 
preceded by public worship. The colony now began to put forth some pro- 
mise of permanent establishment ; but scarcely had Lord Delaware brought 
about this gratifying result, than a complication of disorders compelled him 
to return to England, leaving Lord Percy as his deputy. During his short 
stay, he had not onl;^ reduced the colonists to some degree of order, but 
had repressed the encroachments of the Indians, by the erection of new forts. 



1611.] ■ POCAHONTAS MARRIES JOHN ROLPH 43 

and by attacldng some of their villages. Sir George Somers was sent for 
provisions to the fertile Bermudas, where he died. Captain Argall, who ac- 
companied him in another vessel, succeeded in obtaining a supply of corn on 
the shores of the Potomac. 

The discouragement among the colonists occasioned by the departure of 
Lord Delaware, was happily relieved by the speedy arrival of Sir Thomas 
Dale with three ships, some cattle, and three hundred settlers. For the dis- 
orders arising from discontent and mutiny which had brought the colony to 
the brink of ruin, a stringent remedy had been provided in a code of martial 
law, founded on that of the armies in the Low Countries, by which Dale was 
empowered to execute summary justice upon any disturbers of the public 
peace, or contentious opponents of his measures. This was, however, ad- 
ministered so wisely by him as to fortify without exasperating the spirits of 
the infant colony, which certainly required a stern and watchful nurse. 

Lord Delaware, meanwhile, had not forgotten Virginia ; and his influence 
was used in seconding the urgent request of Dale for seasonable reinforce- 
ments. The next, accordingly, sent out turned the trembling scale and estab- 
lished the nascent prosperity of the colony. Sir Thomas Gates soon arrived 
with six ships and three hundred emigrants, thus swelling the number of the 
settlers to a band of seven hundred men. He brought also a quantity of 
cattle, and a stock of military stores. The unlooked-for arrival of this as- 
sistance was welcomed with transports of affectionate gratitude to the mother 
country. 

The colony now began to extend its boundaries, and the Indians were effect- 
ually overawed. A new settlement, defended by a palisade, called, after the 
king's son, Henrico, was built at some distance up James Eiver ; and another 
at a spot taken (on account of their aggressions upon the colonists) from the 
Appomatocks Indians, at the junction of the river of that name with the James. 
A circumstance shortly afterwards occurred, which greatly tended, for a while, 
to allay the mutual animosities of the aborigines and settlers. During a voyage 
up the Potomac, Captain Argall had artfully brought off Pocahontas, and re- 
fused to give her up unless in exchange for some runaways, who had taken 
refuge with her father, PoM'hatan. While the latter was preparing for hos- 
tilities, one of the settlers, a young man named John Rolph, struck with the 
beauty and gentleness of the Indian maiden, resolved to demand her of her 
father in marriage. Such an union was as contrary to the prejudices of his 
countrymen, as it was desired by the Indians themselves, as being the surest 
method of cementing a lasting and equal alliance with the new-comers. The 
governor, however, encouraged it from motives of policy, — Powhatan was 
rejoiced, — the maiden herself was soon successfully wooed and won over to 
the faith of her husband, and the baptism of the gentle Pocahontas was shortly 
followed by her nuptials. This auspicious example, it was hoped by the 
Indians, would have been more generally imitated than it proved to be by 
the English, who have ever shown themselves slower than other nations in 
allying themselves with the natives of their colonies. The Indians could not 

G 2 



44 DEATH OF POCAHONTAS IN ENGLAND. [1G17. 

but perceive that their alliance was rejected, that they were despised as an 
inferior race, and doomed to be ultimately expelled, by force or fraud, from 
the hunting-grounds of their ancestors. Nor was it long before they formed a 
deep-laid scheme to cut off the unwelcome intruders. For a while, how- 
ever, all appeared fair and promising, and the powerful tribe of the Chicka- 
hominies sought the alliance of the English. 

The fate of the simple Indian maiden, " the first Christian ever of that nation, 
the first Virginian that ever spake English," and from whom have sprung 
some influential families, cannot be a matter of indifference. Shortly after her 
marriage she accompanied her husband to England, where she was much 
caressed for her gentle, modest nature, and her great services to the colony. 
Here she fell in again with the gallant Smith, whom from report she sup- 
posed to have been long dead, and who has left us an interesting account of 
his interview with her, and of the circumstances of her untimely death. — 
" Hearing shee was at Brenford, with divers of my friends I went to see her. 
After a modest salutation, without any word, she turned about, obscured her 
face, as not seeming well contented ; and in that humour her husband with 
divers others, we all left her two or three houres, repenting myselfe to have 
writ she could speake English ; but not long after, she began to talke, and 
remembered mee well what courtesies she had done, saying, ' You did pro- 
mise Powhatan what was yours should bee his, and he the like to you; you 
called him father, being in his land a stranger, and by the same reason so must 
I doe you;' which though I would have excused, I durst not allow of that 
title because she was a king's daughter ; with a well-set countenance she said, 
' Were you not afraid to come into my father's countrie and cause feare in 
him and all his people (but mee), and feare you here that I should call you 
father ? I tell you then I will, and you shall call mee child, and so I will bee 
for ever and ever your countrieman. They did tell us alwais you Avere dead, 
and I knew no other till I came to Plimoth, yet Powhatan did command 
"Vitamatomakkin to seeke you and know the truth, because your .countriemen 
will lie much.' 

" The treasurer, councell, and companie having well furnished Captaine 
Samuel Argall, the Lady Pocahontas, alias Rebecca, with her husband and 
others, in the good ship called the George, it pleased God, at Gravesend, to 
take this young lady to his mercie, where shee made not more sorrow for her 
unexpected death, than joy to the beholders to hear and see her make so re- 
ligious and godly an end." 

Among the changes that had recently taken place in the condition of the 
colony, two circumstances require especial notice, for their important influence 
upon its growth and improvement. The first was the establishment of a right 
of private property in the settlers, who by this stimulus soon came to take a 
greater interest in the improvement of their own lands, thus carrying on at 
the same time the general prosperity of the colony. The second was the 
sending over from England of a considerable number of respectable j'oung 
females, who were eagerly welcomed by the settlers, and thus arrested the 



1617.] CULTIVATION OF TOBACCO IX VIRGINIA. 45 

degeneracy of every community from which women are banished, and added 
the sanctities and blessings of home to the recently acquired rights of indi- 
vidual property. 

The visionary research for gold had by this time quite died out, and in- 
dustry was now turned into that profitable channel from which it has never 
since deviated. The discovery of tobacco by Sir Walter Raleigh's settlers has 
been already noticed. Since that time the taste for it, in spite of the odium 
and ridicule it encountered, having greatly increased in England, there arose 
a corresponding demand, and as it was found to yield an immediate and 
handsome return, it formed the almost exclusive object of cultivation, and 
greatly enriched the colony. The enclosures around the wood dwellings of 
the settlers, and even the open streets of James Town, were sown with it, until 
the cultivation of the necessaries of life was neglected, and the settlers were 
compelled to rely almost entirely upon the Indians for their supply. Many 
edicts were issued both at home and abroad against the prevailing mania 
for the narcotic weed, but its insidiously grateful properties effected a per- 
manent victory over all the anathemas and " counterblasts " launched forth 
against it. 

In tracing the political history of the United States, we shall find two 
agencies, which, though often combined and acting one upon the other, are 
still in their own nature distinctly independent. The first is, the natural tend- 
ency of men cut off from their parent stock, and planted in a new country 
settled by their labours, to assert the natural right of self-government, and to 
frame, with an independence of all foreign control, such laws and institutions 
as are suggested by local circumstances. The other is, the modifying influ- 
ence exercised over them by their connexion with the country from which they 
spring, whose laws, whose manners and prejudices, whose internal state, or 
foreign policy, must aflfect directly or indirectly the condition of her depend- 
ent colonies. We shall find, as we advance towards the memorable period of 
American independence, that the first of these agencies, even when apj^arently 
depressed, has been steadily gaining ground, until, no longer in need of the 
fostering assistance of the parent state, nor able longer to endure the restric- 
tions imposed by her upon their giant growth, the colonies at length throw 
oif the yoke, and assume the dignity of indei^endent nations. 

It is interesting, then, to mark the first germ of self-government implanted 
in Virginia. The disorders of the colonists had led to the establishment of 
martial law, so wisely administered by Dale as to occasion no complaint, but 
the abuses to which such a system was liable were not long in developing 
themselves. Dale had returned to England, leaving George Yeardley as 
deputy governor, but before long, through the influence of Lord Hich, one of 
the principal stockholders, Captain Argall was appointed in the room of 
Yeardley. Argall was active, enterprising, and unscrupulous. In an expe- 
dition to the Penobscot he had destroyed the French settlement of St. Sauveur 
and Port Royal, on the ground of the claim of England to the whole 
territory. 



46 THE ESTABLISHMENT 01 THE SLA VE TRADE, [1619. 

His tyranny and rapacity, armed by the possession of absolute power, soon 
became so intolerable to the colonists that they loudly demanded his recall, 
and the company answered promptly to the appeal by reappointing Yeardley, 
who, in order to meet the growing desire among the colonists for the pos- 
session of political rights, which was beginning to be felt at home, was in- 
structed for the first time to appoint a local assembly, composed of repre- 
sentatives of the different plantations. This moreover was distinctly confirmed 
by Sir Francis Wyatt, who was sent out to supersede Yeardley. In order, 
says Robertson, to render the rights of the planters more certain, the com- 
pany issued a Charter, or Ordinance, which gave a legal and permanent form 
to the government of the colony. 

The effects of this measure were soon felt in the reformation of numerous 
abuses, and in increased confidence on the part of the colonists. The post of 
treasurer had been conferred on Sir Ed^\dn Sandys, whose integrity and 
energy were of the highest value. Though the colony still held it<3 ground, 
it was far from being in a flourishing state, and was far from profitable to tho 
company. Sandys soon sent out twelve hundred additional emigrants, 
together with ninety young women. The planters rapidly extended their 
boundaries ; besides tobacco, various other staples of industry, among which 
cotton deserves especial mention, were introduced, though with little eventual 
success. An impulse was given to production by the arrival, for the first 
time, of a cargo of negroes brought by a Dutch vessel for sale — the fatal 
germ of that system of slavery, which has become so incorporated with the 
very existence of the country, that its abolition, however desirable, is attended 
with infinite difficulty. One of the first results of the discovery of the African 
coasts by the Portuguese, was tha establishment by them of this trade, and 
their example was imitated by the Spanish, whose cities abounded in negro 
slaves. Sir John Hawkins hao been already alluded to as having first in- 
volved England in the disgrace of this inhuman traffic. On one of his semi- 
piratical expeditions h^ had burnt an Indian tqwn and carried off a large 
number of the inhabitants as slaves. The practice was found to be so pro- 
fitable that the moial sense of the community, then every where but feebly 
developed, was tasily reconciled to its adoption, and, spite of the occasional 
remonstrances of the Catholic clergy, the system continued to gain ground. 

While in^.uotry thus extended its triumphs, a provision for religion 
and education was not forgotten. The Episcopal Church of England was 
firmly rcjted in the land, which was divided into parishes, each served by a 
clergynan, to whom a glebe and salary were appointed. Stringent enactments 
wen levelled against the growing spirit of Puritanism. A considerable estate 
wa^ also set apart for the endowment of a college for the education of colonists 
Lnd Indians. 

But a short time before, and the abortive cfibrts to plant Virginia had 
become a theme for satire on the English stage — its success was now the 
subject of general enthusiasm. The colony had at length fairly taken root, 
and in the possession of political rights and comfortable homes, with a bound- 



1622.] CONSPIRACY OF THE INDIANS. . 47 

less field of enterprise before them, the colonists at length began to rest from 
their troubles, and little anticipated the fearful visitation impending over them. 
The deep dissatisfaction of the Indians at the growing encroachments which 
they were powerless to resist by open force, and in which they instinctively 
saw the first steps of that onward march of civilization, before which their 
race was to melt away, suggested the policy of an insidious conspiracy. Pow- 
hatan, the ally of the English, was dead, and was succeeded by Opechaiicanough, 
who matured, in impenetrable darkness, a scheme for cutting off" every white 
man from the colony, which he veiled by the profession of zealous amity. 
The English, despising the Indians, and lulled into security by a long interval 
of peace with them, were taken entirely by surprise. On the 22nd of March, 
the Indians, loaded with the sports of the chace and other provisions for their 
allies, entered their dwellings, and were received without suspicion; — at a 
given signal, the wild yell of the savage burst forth ; men, women, and chil- 
dren were involved in a common massacre, and their bodies mangled with 
ferocious satisfaGtiooi. Tw© hundred and forty-seven souls were thus suddenly 
murdered; and the whole colony might have been cut off, but for a con- 
verted Indian, residing in the house of his English master, "who," it is 
added, " used him as a son." Being solicited by the agent of Opechancanough 
to itiurder his ben-efactor, he instantly informed him of the treacherous pro- 
posal ; the alarm was carried to James Town, which, thus forewarned, was 
enabled to provide against the treacherous attack of the Indians, who timidly 
fled before the aspect of determined resistance. 

Their scheme had failed — the greater part of the colonists still survived. 
But the efiect of the panic was most disastrous. The scattered settlements 
were abandoned, as exposed, without adequate defence, to the sudden attack 
of a ruthless and invisible enemy, who eluded pursuit by plunging into the 
dejDths of the forest. To fear succeeded the thirst for revenge; and a 
warfare of extermination was long regarded by the settlers as a sacred 
duty, and even enforced by successive enactments. The misfortunes of the 
colonists excited a general sympathy in England, and prompt supplies were 
immediately sent out for their relief. The harassing warfare that ensued 
was attended with much misery and interruption of industrious pursuits; 
and by the confusion it occasioned, tended still further to inflame the disputes 
among the proprietaries. The affairs of the company had been unsuccessful, 
and the progress of the colony proportionably slow. The colonists, by the 
terms of the charter, were little better than indented servants to the company, 
who, notwithstanding the concessions which had been extorted from them, 
stiU retained the supreme direction of aflairs. Their policy was narrow, timid, 
and fluctuating ; and its unfortunate result led to dissensions, in which poli- 
tical, even more than commercial, questions soon became the subject of eager 
dispute. In England the ministerial faction eagerly endeavoured to fortify 
itself by gaining adherents among the Virginia company, but the great 
majority were determined to assert the rights and liberties of the subject at 
home, as well as of the colonists abroad. A freedom of discussion on political 



4S JAMES I. ASSUMES THE GOVERNMENT. [1625. 

matters in general Avas thus generated, which was regarded by tne lovers of 
arbitrary power as being of highly dangerous tendency. The king, who had 
taken the alarm, was appealed to as arbiter by the minority, and, furnished 
with a pretext in the ill success and presumed mismanagemejit of the com- 
pany's affairs, determined upon a summary and arbitrary method of reforming 
them after his own standard. Without legal right, by the exercise of his pre- 
rogative alone, he ordered the records of the company in London to be taken 
possession of, and appointed a commission to sit in judgment upon its pro- 
ceedings, while another body was sent to Virginia to inquire into the condi- 
tion and management of the colony. The first inquiry brought, it was 
confessed, much mismanagement to light, upon which the king, by an order 
in council, declared his own intention to assume in future the appointment of 
the officers of the colony, and the supreme direction of its affairs. The di- 
rectors were invited to accede to this arrangement, on pain of the forfeiture of 
their charter. Paralysed by the suddenness of this attack uj)on their privi- 
leges, they begged that they might be allowed some time for consideration. 
An answer in three days' time was peremptorily insisted on. Thus menaced, 
they determined to stand upon their rights, and to surrender them only to 
force. Upon their decided refusal, a writ of quo warranto was issued by 
James against the company, in order that the validity of its charter might be 
tried in the court of King's Bench. The parliament having assembled, the 
court made a last appeal, but obtained from that body but little sympathy for 
their exclusive privileges. At length the commissioners returned from Vir- 
ginia with accumulated evidences of misgovernment, and an earnest recom- 
mendation to the monarch to recur to the original constitution of 1606, and 
to abrogate the democratic element which had occasioned so much dissension 
and misrule. This afforded additional ground for a decision, which, as usual 
in that age, says llobertson, was " perfectly consonant to the wishes of the 
monarch. The charter was forfeited, the company was dissolved, and all the 
rights and privileges conferred on it returned to the king, from Avhom they 
flowed." 

The colonists, upon learning the intentions of the king, sent over a petition 
that no change might take place in their acquired franchises, whatever form 
of government might be substituted for that of the late company. Their agent 
died on the passage, but James, satisfied at the moment with the victory he 
had obtained, and meditating the eventual establishment of a code of laws of 
his own especial devising, made for the present little or no change in the 
established form of government. Sir Francis Wyatt was continued in office, 
with the order to conform to the precedent of the last five years, thus tacitly 
recognising th6 authority of the representative assemblies which had been 
convened for that period. The monarch died before he could fulfil his de- 
clared intentions of remodelling the state of Virginia after the fashion of that 
pedantic kingcraft in which he so greatly prided himself. 



1598.] FRANCE AND THE FUR TRADE. 



CHAPTER III. 



SETTLEMENT OF NEW FRANCE. — THE JESUITS AT MOUNT DESERT ISLAND. — DISCOVERIES OP 
CHAMPLAIN. — FOUNDATION OF QUEBEC. — DESTRUCTION OF PORT ROTAL. 



^T lengtli, France, after fifty years of intestine troubles, having through the 
valour, activity, and clemency of Henry IV. recovered her tranquillity, and, 
under this most able of her monarchs, being in a condition to imdertake any 
enterprise, the taste for colonial adventure revived, and a Breton gentleman, 
the Marquis de la Roche, obtained the same commission and privileges as had 
been conferred on Roberval. But his expedition was a total failure. On 
reaching Isle Sable, one of the dreariest and most barren of the Atlantic 
islands, he put on shore a band of forty criminals, whom he had obtained as 
sailors, by licence, from the prisons of France, and who soon found them- 
selves less at their ease than in the dungeons from which they had been de- 
livered, and were finally permitted to return home. The growing importance 
of the fur trade, next led the Sieur de Pontgrave, one of the principal merchants 
of St. JNIalo, in concert with M. Chauvin, to obtain a patent, and set on foot some 
more successful voyages. In 1613, De Chatte, governor of Dieppe, formed 
a company, composed not only of Rouen merchants, but of many persons of 
condition, and his preparations were advancing, when Samuel de Champlain, 
of Saintonge, an officer in the navy, brave, skilful, and experienced, returned 
from the East Indies, where he had spent more than two years. He was so- 
licited to direct the expedition, to which with the king's permission he con- 
sented. But in the mean time De Monts had obtained, in concert with a con- 
federacy of the most eminent and wealthy merchants of France, an exclusive 
monopoly of the fur trade, and the sovereignty of Acadia and its dependencies, 
from the fortieth to the forty-sixth degree of latitude. This unfortunate ad- 
venturer, according to Charlevoix, was a man of great judgment, integrity, 
and patriotism, zealous for his country, and of capacity to conduct any 
enterprise by which its interests might be advanced; but his views were never 
well carried out, and his exclusive privileges awakened the envy of many, 
whose persevering hostility brought him to the brink of ruin. Another and 
a more fatal source of discord was not wanting. De Monts was himself a 
Calvinist, at a time when the cruel and sanguinary struggles between Catholic 
and Protestant had hardly ceased, yet he engaged to establish the Catholic 
religion among the aboriginal inhabitants and settlers. Even with the most 
upright intentions on his part, such a condition was certain to involve re- 
ligious disputes, and thus to disunite and weaken an infant community. 



50 THE FIRST FRENCH SETTLEMENT IN A3IERICA. [ICOG. 

De INlonts first landed on the Isle of St. Croix, but the severity of the 
winter drove him to explore the coast in search of a more favourable settle- 
ment. He went to the Kennebec, and as far south as CajDC Cod, biit finding 
obstacles, returned to Isle St. Croix, where being joined by Pontgrave, they 
repaired to Port Royal. 

Nature has formed few scenes more beautiful than this land-locked harbour, 
where one of the leaders of the expedition, Poutrincourt, charmed with the 
site, sought permission of De Monts to establish himself with his family. This 
settlement is the oldest in North America. " Here," says Mr. Bancroft, " the 
first French settlement on the American continent had been made two years 
before James River was discovered, and three years before a cabin had been 
raised in Canada." The stone on which the colonists rudely engraved the 
date of their settlement was discovered in 1827 ; on the upper part are en- 
graved the square and compass of the free-mason, and in the centre, in large 
and deeply cut Arabic characters, the date 1606.' 

On his return to France, De Monts found his privileges assailed by the 
fishermen, who were successful in their appeal against him. Determined not 
to abandon his colony, he made a new treaty with Poutrincourt, who, leaving 
his settlement at Port Royal, had followed him into France, and they sailed 
again from Rochelle in INIay, 1606. 

Their voyage was protracted, and in the mean while the handful of colonists 
left behind at Port Royal were reduced to despair, and after long endurance, 
Pontgrave reluctantly embarked for France in search of succour, leaving but 
two men at the mercy of the savages to watch over the infant settlement. 
Scarcely, however, had they set out on their return, when they fell in with a 
bark, which gave them the welcome news that Poutrincourt had arrived at 
Canceaux. Thither they repaired, and here Pontgrave set himself to the 
work of fortification. "Wise, experienced, and personally indefatigable, he 
had the secret of preventing discontent, by keeping his people always well 
employed. He was ably seconded by Lescarbot, an advocate from Paris, the 
author of a work on French Florida, and a man as capable of founding a colony 
as he was of writing a history. He animated the weaker settlers, spurred 
on the active, and sparing himself in nothing, made himself beloved by all. 

But De Monts was still unfortunate — the remonstrances of the merchants 
had deprived him of his exclusive patent. In 1608, another expedition was 
made to the St. Lawrence. It was on the third of July, that Champlain, who 
had command of the expedition, and whose views, unlike those of the mer- 
chant adventurers, which had regard only to profitable trafiic, embraced the 
ultimate establishment and defence of a noble colony, first erected on Cape 
Diamond, the scattered huts which formed the nucleus of the future city of 
Quebec, the crown and defence of Canada under both its French and English 
masters. 

The Jesuits had already followed in the wake of the new discoverers, and 
explored the rivers and coasts of Maine. Another colony was attempted 
under the auspices of Mary de Medici. De Soussaye was invested with the 



1G13.] THE JESUITS AT 3I0VNT DESERT ISLAND. 51 

command of this expedition. Sailing from Honfleur, he touched at Port 
Royal, but the Jesuits, eager for the conversion of the heathen, were desirous 
of a sphere on which they could labour in uncontrolled independence, and 
thus they proceeded to explore the rocky coast of Maine. Here, near the 
mouth of the Penobscot, on the wild shores of Mount Desert Isle, they de- 
termined to establish themselves. Landing on the northern bank, De 
Soussaj'-e hastily threw up intrenchments around his settlements, to which 
they gave the name of Saint Sauveur. Soon, by the labour of his little 
band of five and twenty, assisted by the ship's crew, all working with com- 
bined energy, some rude habitations were erected ; a cross was reared in their 
midst, and the matin and evening chants arose in this dreary sea-beat solitude. 
The missionaries now ardently engaged in the work of imparting the consola- 
tions of religion to the natives, and the marvels of healing seemed wrought 
by their faith. The Pere Biart being indefatigable in this labour of love, his 
earnest, disinterested piety won upon the rude but impressible savages. The 
sway of France, as well as her religion, were about to be permanently estab- 
lished upon the coasts of Maine. 

But these results were prevented by an imforeseen adventure, disastrous to 
the new colonists, and destructive of all their pious anticipations. Scarcely 
had they reposed from the fatigues of the long voyage, and entered upon 
the course in which they Avere engaged with their whole souls, than there ap- 
peared in the offing a fleet of English fishing boats from Virginia, under the 
convoy of a ship of war. Samuel Argall, its commander, a man of coarse 
character, animated by national jealousy, perhaps by religious hate, and, 
though the nations were at peace, founding his proceedings upon the asser- 
tions of the exclusive right of the English to the soil, at once determined to 
destroy the infant settlement. When this ill-omened fleet hove in sight, De 
Soussaye, seeing that it bore the English flag, prepared to defend the j^lace, 
as did La Motte de Vilin the ship under his command. But they were both 
■ destitute of artillery, while Argall had fourteen guns ; and the English Cap- 
tain, after cannonading the feeble ramparts, poured in a destructive fire of 
musquetry, which compelled De Soussaye to yield. The cross, which had 
been placed to call together the worshippers till a chapel could be built, was 
hastily hurled down, and under the plea that all things are lawful in war with 
an enemy, Argall privately possessed himself of the commission of De Soussaye. 
The next day he demanded it from him ; De Soussaye, ignorant of the theft, 
replied, that it was in his trunk ; and when it was not found, Argall, affecting 
to regard him as a pirate, treated him with indignity, and gave up the ship 
and settlement to pillage. 

Argall now offered to transport his prisoners to Virginia, and to allow them 
the free exercise of their religion. La Motte de Vilin, who was treated kindly 
by the English captain, with Pere Biart, prepared to go thither. A vessel had 
indeed been offered to convey them back to France, but it was found to be 
too small— the commandant, with some of the others, determined, however, 
to sail in it for Port Royal. They started on this forlorn cruise, and while 

h2 



52 DISCOVERY OF LAKE CHAMP LAIN. [1G13. 

coastirag the island, had the joy of seeing on the shore their pilot, Lametz, 
■u'ho, upon the attack by Argall, had made his escape into the woods. They 
had not long taken him on board before they fell in with a French ship, 
bound for St. Malo, in which they returned home from their disastrous ex- 
pedition. 

When Argall reached Virginia with his cajatives, the governor sentenced 
them to death, refusing to ratify the promises made to them, on the ground of 
their being unfurnished with a commission. Argall, rather than witness their 
execution, was compelled to reveal his perfidy. The prisoners were spared, 
but the governor, resenting the encroachments of the French, now despatched 
Argall to destroy all their settlements, to the latitude of forty-five degrees, 
within which limits the English asserted their exclusive right of colonization. 
The destructive edict was fulfilled to the letter, the fortifications of Isle St. 
Croix and the settlements at Port Royal were demolished, and thus in a few 
hours was consumed all that the French possessed in a colony where they had 
invested a hundred thousand crowns, without taking precaution against a 
surprise by their enemies. Poutrincourt, who had lost more than any, re- 
turned from the scene of his misfortunes to France, 'distinguished himself in 
the service of his country, and died on the field of honour. 

On their return to Quebec in 1609, Champlain and Pontgrave found that 
their settlement had advanced almost better than they had dared to hope. 
Content reigned among the colonists, they had planted Indian corn and 
reaped an abundant harvest, but Champlain's attempt to naturalize the vine 
had totally failed. 

Champlain was among the first to follow the fatal and cruel policy of taking 
part in quarrels between the Indian tribes, and of engaging them in those of 
Europeans. The Algonquins had solicited his assistance against the Iroquois. 
Sailing up the St. Lawrence in his shallop, accompanied by bis allies, the 
French commander was the first to penetrate into the unbroken solitude of the 
river Sorel. After advancing fifteen leagues, the rapids of Chambly, at the point 
where now the fort is situated, opposed an insuperable obstacle to the pro- 
gress of his vessel. Of this the Indians had not forewarned him, yet, neither 
repelled by their deceit, nor by the perils of advancing into a hostile territory, 
he sent back the shallop to Quebec, and proceeded. At night they encamped 
on the margin of the stream, their canoes were ranged close along the shore, 
and they were protected from surprise on the land side by a fortification of 
fallen trees. It was not long before the Frenchman, emerging from the river, 
burst into that magnificent lake, of which he was the first discoverer, and which 
has ever since borne his name. He admired its wide expanse, its beautiful 
and varied shores, and the snow-covered mountains far to the west, among 
which are the head-waters of the noble Hudson. Reaching the extremity of 
Lake Champlain, he descended the rapids below its outlet, penetrating across 
that narrow intervening neck of land which separates it from the smaller but 
more romantic Lake George, to which he gave the name of Saint Sacrament. 
One envies the feelings with which Champlain must have first explored scenes 



1G09.] FLOURISHING CONDITION OF QUEBEC. 53 

of such exquisite beauty, but scenes destined to become ere long the theatre of 
many a sanguinary struggle between the French and English, of many an act 
of cruelty by their Indian allies. These he was now for the first time 
to witness, for very shortly after the Iroquois and Algonquins had met, and 
his fire-arms had decided the battle, the Indians began to torture their prison- 
ers with their accustomed cruelty, and Champlain, unable to bear the sight of 
the torn and palpitating captives, was comjDelled to beg that he might shorten 
their sufierings with his musket. 

This remarkable man afterwards carried his explorations far into the in- 
terior, ascended the Ottawa river, mingled in the internal wars of the Indians, 
obtained a great ascendency over them, and opened the j^ath for the Jesuit 
missionaries, who pushed their operations into the remotest West. Under 
his auspices the infant foundation of Quebec, threatened by religious dissen- 
sions and the hostility of the Indians, was preserved from dissolution, and 
the extensive territory of New France acquired for his native country. He 
left his bones in the land which he thus colonized and explored. 



CHAPTER IV. 



VOYAGES AND DISCOVERY OF HENRY HUDSON. SETTLEMENT OF NETV NETHERLANDS. 

While the English and French subjects were extending their possessions in 
the New World, another settlement was about to be effected there by the 
citizens of Holland. The natives of that extraordinary country, of which the 
*• new catched miles," as Andrew Marvel calls them, are only protected from 
the inroads of the sea and the overflow of the Rhine by stupendous embank- 
ments, whose cities were built upon millions of jsiles sunk into the morasses, 
were, by the very natui'e of their position, as much in the ocean as on terra 
firma, nursed into maritime hardihood, and driven for subsistence into com- 
mercial and manufacturing enterprise. Rising more elastic from their me- 
morable struggle for their religion and liberties with the power of Spain, their 
commerce had taken an immense development, their ships covered the 
seas, and their settlements were extended far as the limits of human dis- 
covery. The progress of the English in North America had already excited 
their emulation, and an enterprise had been projected, but abandoned lest it 
should involve them in fresh hostilities with the Spaniards. It was in 1609 
that Henry Hudson, after two daring but unsuccessful attempts, at the expense 
of a body of London merchants, to seek for the North-west passage to India, 



54 HENRY HUDSON IN NEW YORK BAY. [1G09. 

crossed over to Holland and offered his experience to the newly-created Dutch 
East India Company. His services were accepted, and on the 4th of April, 
in a small vessel, the Halve Mane, or Crescent, he departed for the third time 
on his perilous enterprise. Having reached the Northern Sea, and finding 
his progress impeded by masses of ice, he turned to the westward, coasted the 
shores of Acadie, entered the mouth of the river Penobscot, ran down as far as 
the Chesapeake, already colonized by the English, and finally came to an 
anchor within Sandy Hook at the entrance of New York Bay, which had 
never, so far as is known, been visited by Europeans since the time of 
Verezzani. 

As he approached the shores he was delighted with the delicious fragrance 
and verdure. Groups of the Indians, clothed in deer-skins, poured down and 
eagerly welcomed the new comers, and brought forth to propitiate them great 
store of Indian corn and tobacco. On the Long Island shores the natives 
were, however, more hostile, and attacked the boats, killing one of the crew 
with an arrow, and wounding two others. Hudson now advanced with greater 
precaution through the Narrows, explored the shores of the bay, and trafficked 
with the natives on Staten Island. Manhattan Island, now entirely overspread 
with the magnificent commercial capital of America, was then " wild and 
rough ; " a thick forest covered those parts where vegetation could take root ', 
the beach was broken and rugged, and the interior full of desolate sandy 
hillocks and swampy ponds. Hudson now entered the noble river which 
bears his name, carefully sounding as he advanced. Never had such a scene 
before saluted his eyes ; and he described the land as being " the most beau- 
tiful in the world." We may, indeed, figure his astonishment and delight, 
as from the deck of his little vessel he traced the magnificent course of the 
river through the rocky " Palisades," and the broad expanse of the " Tappan 
Sea," till he reached the majestic solitudes of " the Highlands." The lofty 
mountains, dropping their feet into the still waters of the river, were clothed 
from base to summit with a gorgeous mantle of unbroken foliage, through which 
the denizens of the forest roamed at will; the deer might have been seen 
glancing timidly from his covert at the passing apparition of a white sail ; the 
plaintive and fitful cry of the water-fowl, or the melancholy note of the 
whip-poor-will, were the only sounds that disturbed the otherwise unbroken 
and almost oppressive stillness. Traces of the presence of man were none 
save the lonely wigwam and the bark canoe. Gliding past promontory after 
promontory, and reach after reach, Hudson emerged into the more open part 
of the river, and came to an anchor off" the spot where now stands the city 
which commemorates his name and voyage, and where he was most hospitably 
received by the natives. He went on shore and visited their comfortable bark 
wigwams, and was abundantly supplied with Indian corn and the sjioils of the 
chace, a fat dog skinned with shells was a special delicacy prepared on the 
occasion, and seeing him about to return to his ships, and fearing lest mistrust 
of them might be the cause, they broke their bows and arrows, and threw 
them before his eyes into the fire. With child-like confidence they came off 



1610-20.] FOUNDATION OF NEW AMSTERDA3I. 55 

to the vessel, and examined every article with curiosity and delight altoge- 
ther as childish. Hudson did not advance above this spot with his ship, but 
ascended as far as Albany in his shallop ; and, after being delayed for four 
days by adverse wi;/ids, descended the river, and, sailing direct homewards, had 
a fortunate passage back to Dartmouth, whence he forwarded an account of 
his discovery to his Dutch employers. They refused, however, to prosecute the 
abortive search for the North-west passage any further, and Hudson was de- 
spatched by a London company on his last and fatal voyage. Again reaching 
the Northern Sea, he sailed through the straits to which he has left his name, 
and found himself embayed in a vast gulf, through which he vainly sought 
for the long-desired outlet. After a winter of horrible privation he set out 
with a mutinous crew on his return ; they put him with his only son and a 
few sailors into an open boat, which they cut adrift, and left them to perish 
of cold and famine, or to be helplessly crushed by masses of floating ice. 
Hudson was never heard of more. So miserable was the fate of one of the 
most intrepid and persevering explorers of America. 

The Dutch East India Company claimed a right to the new lands disco- 
vered by their agent ; and vessels were immediately despatched to open a 
trade with the natives. A few fortified huts were erected for this purpose on 
the Island of Manhattan, the nucleus of the future city of New York. Argall, 
returning to Virginia from his attack of the French settlements, looked in 
upon the little group of traders, and claimed the right of possession for England. 
Too weak to dispute his claim, they affected submission, but only till his ves- 
sels "svere out of sight. The States-general had meanwhile granted a four 
years' monopoly to any other enterprising traders, and an Amsterdam com- 
pany sent out five ships. One of these adventurers, Adrian Blok, extended 
the sphere of discovery by way of the East Kiver, ran through the formidable 
" Hellegat," or Hell Gate, traced the shores of Long Island and the coasts of 
Connecticut as far as Cape Cod. A fort was erected on Manhattan Island, 
and another at Albany, merely, however, as centres of trafiic with the In- 
dians, and not with the view of permanent colonization. After a further 
duration of three years, during which they opened friendly relations with 
different tribes of Indians, the trading monopoly passed into the hands of 
the Dutch West India Company, who were endowed with the exclusive pri- 
vilege of trafficking and colonizing on the coasts of Africa and America. This 
corporation was divided into different chambers, established in different cities 
— that at Amsterdam being invested with the charge of the colony now called 
New Netherlands, the boundaries of which extended somewhat vaguely from 
the Connecticut River to the Delaware. The Island of Manhattan was now 
purchased of the Indians, and the fort, with its little group of surrounding 
cottages, was named after the parent city. New Amsterdam. The traders ex- 
tended their explorations, and carried on a profitable traffic with the Indians. 
They opened friendly relations with the Protestant pilgrims in New England, 
who, not unforgetful of the succour afforded them in Holland, as yet cor- 
dially welcomed the new comers. 



56 GROWTH OF THE NEW NETHERLANDS. [1G20-48. 

To encourage a permanent occupation of the country, was granted in 1629, 
to every one who should phant a colony of fifty souls, the separate privilege 
to possess, under the title of " Patroon," absolute property, accompanied 
with almost feudal privileges, in the lands thus occupied. Adventurei;s were 
not slow in availing themselves of so tempting an offer, and large portions of 
territory were soon appropriated. The banks of the Delaware were thus settled 
by De Vries ; and his infant establishment, soon destroyed by the Indians, 
was shortly after re-established, protected by Fort Nassau. The fort of Good 
Hope was erected on the shore of Connecticut, the river of which name was 
first discovered and its neighbourhood occupied by a body of Dutch emigrants. 

The claims and privileges of the " Patroons " were soon found to clash 
with those of the Company, and disputes arose seriously retarding the pro- 
gress of the colony, which was threatened besides with more serious cause for 
apprehension. A new scheme for colonization was formed by Gustavus 
Adolphus, king of Sv»^eden, and a band of emigrants appeared in the Delaware, 
elbowing their unwilling neighbours. The governor protested, but in vain, 
and the Swedish colony continued to increase. The old claim of the English 
was also revived, and a body of settlers from Plymouth summarily established 
themselves in the vicinity of the Connecticut. To protestations the governor. 
Van Twiller, this time added force, but the English were too strong for the 
body sent to dislodge them, and continued to maintain their ground. Mean- 
while, here as every where else, serious dissensions had arisen Avith the Indian 
tribes. Kieft, the successor of Van Twiller, upon a trifling provocation, 
had fallen upon the Algonquins and massacred a considerable number. A 
bloody and exterminating war broke out, the detached settlers were cut off, 
the villages burnt, and all the ferocity of Indian warfare was let loose upon the 
unhappy colonists. "Wearied out, at length, both parties entered into a 
solemn treaty of peace. Kieft, the object of general execration, met with a 
retribtitive fate, being wrecked soon after on returning to his native country. 

Such were the troubles, jealousies, and dissensions, among which the infant 
colony of New Netherlands gradually continued to gain ground and prosper. 
It is interesting to look back to this early period, of which so many picturesque 
traces remain in local usages and nomenclature. The names of the first 
" Patroons " are those of the old aristocracy of the merchant city. In New 
Jersey any one coming from Holland would be struck with curious resem- 
blances to the waggons and signs of that country. The " Bowery " of New 
York still recalls the name of the original Dutch farming grounds, and the 
direction of the streets indicate, it is believed, the old cattle paths through this 
half rural, half commercial, settlement, which gradually encroached on the 
forest, and began to assume a respectable appearance, M-ith its church and 
houses built after the quaint fashion of those of the mother country ; and of 
which the traces are so rapidly disappearing in the march of modern improve- 
ment. The little " schuyts," or skiffs, similar to /those now seen on the canals 
of Holland, might then have been seen gliding up and down the Hudson, to 
the different landings, of which so many still retain their original appellations ; 



IGOO.] THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 57 

and those scattered and snug farm-houses, with their rural riches and profound 
quietude, nestling under the wild covert of the half-cleared forest, of which 
the pen of Washington Irving, in his " Sketch Book," has left us so delicious 
a picture. 



CHAPTER V. 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS. — ROBINSON AND HIS CHURCH IN ENGLAND AND AT LETDEN. — NEGOCIA- 
TIONS. — VOYAGE OF THE MAYFLOWER. — HARDSHIPS AND MORTALITY. — SETTLEMENT AT 
PLYMOUTH. 

The doctrine of a Providence, watching over the destinies and mysteriously 
directing the movements of the human race, was never more strikingly exem- 
plified than in the colonization of New England. In following its eventful 
history, we are forcibly struck with the ripeness of the times and seasons, and 
with the wonderful concurrence of circumstances : and of all the chapters of 
Ameiican history, this is incomparably the most interesting and momentous, 
as being intimately connected with principles and feelings the loftiest that can 
actuate the human soul. 

. That mighty impulse given by the Eeformation to the enfranchisement of 
the mind, so long bowed down under the paralysing influence of the Roman 
Church, was quickly felt throughout Europe, but not by any means in equal 
measure. In some instances the reaction against her was complete and the 
separation from her communion total. In the little republic of Geneva, for 
example, John Calvin — the Bible his sole guide, established a form of faith 
and a system of church government of the simplest and austerest kind, which 
soon became the model for imitation to the Protestants of Holland, France, 
and Scotland. In England, on the contrary, various causes contributed to 
prevent so sudden and extreme a change. The mass of the people were still 
attached to the old system. Henry VIII. repudiated the supremacy of the 
Pope only to establish his own ; and as he was at heart a believer in the Ca- 
tholic dogmas, the form taken by the English Church was but a modification 
of that, to whose revenues and authority it had succeeded, — a compromise be- 
tween Rome and Geneva. Any avowed deviation from his standard was 
punished by this brutal and arbitrary monarch Avith the torture aiad the fag- 
got. This severity might for a time suppress, though it could not destroy, 
that growing desire for a more sweeping reformation, which in the reign of his 
successor, Edward VI., and under the influence of the Lord Protector, openly 
displayed itself under the name of Puritanism. During this reign there was 
a constant struggle between the hierarchy and the Puritans; but their 



58 OPPRESSION OF PURITANS UNDER JAMES L [1G03. 

dissensions were interrupted by the succession of Mary, and tlie temporary 
triumph of Catholicism, which involved them in one common persecution 
On this occasion many of the Puritans took refuge on the continent, where the; 
became still more deeply imbued with the spirit of the Calvinistic institutes. 
The same spirit of free inquiry that had enfranchised them from ecclesiasti- 
cal bigotry, naturally prompted a growing spirit of resistance to civil tyranny, 
which, however, the necessity of uniting against the Spanish power tended, for 
awhile, to keep in abeyance. When the accession of Elizabeth re-established 
the ascendency of Protestantism they returned to England, where their doc- 
trines continued to gain ground, although the queen herself, who disliked 
their spirit and tendency, opposed them with the whole weight of her 
authority; and Archbishop "VVhitgift, determined to enforce a strict compli- 
ance v/ith the standard of the Church, commenced a cruel persecution against 
the Nonconformist party. The pretensions and severity of the Episcopalians, 
who nov/ contended for the doctrines, unknown to the early Reformers, of 
apostolical succession and the right divine of kings, increased with the acces- 
sion of James I., who, although bred up in the Presbyterian iliith, was no 
sooner seated on the throne of England, than he found the established form 
of church government suit better with his love of arbitrary power than the 
restless spirit of Puritanism. This he regarded with dislike, and not without 
reason, as calculated to undermine the fabric of arbitrary power, especially as 
the parliament, now struggling against the exercise of kingly prerogative, 
favoured the cause of the Puritans, as much as the Episcopal hierarchy, 
subservient to the pleasure of the monarch, endeavoured to crush them by 
fines, deprivations, and imprisonment. 

The party thus proscribed and persecuted was itself divided. The more 
moderate desired rather to infuse their own spirit of rigid reformation and 
austerity of manners into the Established Church, than to deny her au- 
thority or renounce her communion. But there were many who, repudiating 
alike Episcoi^al and Presbyterian government, contended for the absolute 
independence of every separate congregation of believers, and their right 
to frame for themselves, unrestricted by human authority, such a form of 
church government and discipline as they could derive from the study of 
Scripture. This section of the i^arty who called themselves Independents, but 
had obtained the appellation, at once distinctive and contemptuous, of Brown- 
ists, from the name of one of their leaders, a man whose intemperate zeal was 
speedily succeeded by his ignominious recantation, still continued to exist, 
in the North of England, the object of a watchful and incessant persecution. 
Many of them had fled for refuge to the States of Holland, and established 
a Congregational church in the city of Amsterdam. 

Of these separatists, another body had been gradually formed on the joining 
borders of Nottinghamshire, Lincolnshire, and Yorkshire, principally by the 
influence of certain Puritan ministers of the neighbourhood, and especially of 
William Brewster, who, from the position which he occupied in the little 
church which he had organized, was distinguished by the title of " Elder 



1G07.] ROBINSON IS MADE PASTOR OF THE PURITANS. 59 

Brewster." He was a man of respectable family and considerable attainments, 
and had been one of the under secretaries of state, in the office of Secretary Da- 
vison, whom he accompanied on a mission into Holland, and upon whose fall 
from power, in 1587, he retired from public life, as it is now believed, to 
Scrooby, a small village about a mile and a half to the south of Bawtry, in 
Yorkshire. Here he, as sub-tenant, occupied a large mansion-house, " a 
manor of the Bishop of York's," which had afforded a refuge for several 
weeks to the broken-hearted and penitent "Wolsey, after his disgrace, and 
where he had distinguished himself by many works of piety and mercy. In 
this old mansion, now razed to the ground, the members of the church, for 
the most part agriculturists from the surrounding districts, with a few per- 
sonages of the rank of gentry, were hospitably entertained by Brewster, and 
met for the celebration of their simple, but solemn, services. Among them was 
William Bradford, from a family of the yeomanry, long settled at Austerfield, 
a village in the same neighbourhood — a man without the education of Brewster, 
but of good natural talents, who was afterwards chosen governor of the infant 
State of New Plymouth, and whose Diary of its settlement, Biography of 
Brewster, and other writings, form the most interesting as well as authentic 
materials for its history. The pastor chosen to preside over the church vras 
John Eobinson, a Puritan divine, who had been educated at Cambridge, where 
he is supposed to have formed the acquaintance of Brewster. He had held 
a benefice in the neighbourhood of Norwich, but his views upon the neces- 
sity of a separation from the Church becoming more decided, he endea- 
voured to obtain adherents in that city, which, however, he afterwards left upon 
an invitation to preside over the church of Scrooby. Eobinson was a man of 
high and beautiful character, imbued with an indAvelling spirit of Christian 
charity. Baillie, an opponent, calls him the " most learned, polished, and 
modest spirit that ever his sect enjoyed." " 'Tis true," says WinsloAV, "he 
was more rigid in his course and way at first than toward his latter end : for 
his study was peace and union, so far as it might agree with faith and a good 
conscience, and for schisms and divisions, there was nothing in the world more 
hateful to him." His liberality was seen in his willingness to receive to com- 
munion the members of churches differing from his own, if, as he believed, true 
followers of Christ ; a concession repudiated by the stricter followers of his 
sect. He was a true father to his people, he loved them as his own soul, 
in their temporal, as M^ell as spiritual, affairs he took the deepest interest, 
and he was regarded by them with a feeling of veneration that gathered 
strength with years. 

Harassed at home by every species of malicious annoyance, the members 
of the church thus formed by Brewster, and presided over by Eobinson, 
resolved to follow the example of the other refugees of their persuasion, 
and to emigrate to Holland. " It must not be understood," says Hunter, 
to whose recent researches we are indebted for the above details, " that all the 
persons who afterwards sailed in the Mayflower had been members of the church 
while it was in England ; many of them must have joined it during its resi- 

I 2 



60 R OBINSON A ND HIS PEOPLE LEA VE ENGL A ND. [1 G07, 8. 

dence at Amsterdam and Leyden, as ^\c know authentically that Winslow did, 
and also Captain Miles Standish, afterwards so conspicuous in the history of 
the colony. There was indeed, during the whole of the twelve years that 
the church was in Holland, a constant stream of disaffected persons from 
England setting towards that country, where the principle of toleration was 
recognised, and religious peculiarities of opinion and practice might be in- 
dulged in peace." 

" It must have been in the autumn or early winter of 1607," continues Hunt- 
er, " that the church at Scrooby began to put into execution the intention, 
■vrhich must have been forming months before, of leaving their native country, 
and settling in a land of which they knew little more than that there they should 
find the toleration denied them at home. Bradford says much in his general way 
of writing, of the oppression to which they were subjected, both ministers and 
people ; and there cannot be a doubt that attempts would be made to put down 
the church, and those attempts, whatever they were, Avould be construed into 
acts of ecclesiastical oppression by those who deemed the maintenance of such 
a church an act of religious duty. And controversy, as it Avas in those days con- 
ducted, was likely to set neighbour against neighbour, and to roughen the whole 
surface of society. Much of what Bradford speaks may have been but this kind 
of collision, or at most acts of the neighbouring justices of the peace in en- 
forcing what was then the law. Bradford speaks of the excitement of the 
neighbourhood when they saw so many persons of all ranks and conditions 
parting with their possessions, and going simultaneously to another country, 
of whose very language they were ignorant. Some carried with them por- 
tions of their household goods ; and it is mentioned that some of them carried 
with them looms which they had used at home. They Avere not, however, 
allowed to go without some opposition. The principal party of them, in which 
were Brewster and Bradford, intended to embark at Boston, and they made 
a secret bargain with a Dutch captain of a vessel, to receive them on board in 
that port as privately as might be. The captain acted perfidiously. He gave 
secret information to the magistrates of Boston, and when they were embarked, 
and, as they thought, just upon the point of sailing, they were surprised by 
finding officers of the port come on board, who removed them from the vessel 
and carried them to 2:)rison in the town, not without circumstances of con- 
tumely. Some were sent back to their homes ; others, among whom apj^ears 
to have been Brewster, were kept for many months in confinement at Boston. 
Not consecutively upon this, but correlatively as it seems, is another fact, 
showing the difficulties which they met with in their emigration. The party 
to whom this story belongs had agreed with the master of another Dutch 
vessel, then lying in the port of Hull, to take them on board at an unfre- 
quented place on the northern coast of Lincolnshire. This man deceived them ; 
for having taken about half of them on board, on some real or pretended 
alarm, he sailed away, leaving the rest, who were chiefly women and chil- 
dren, on the shore in the deepest affliction. Let it be added, to the honour 
of England, that the colonists cannot lay the evil conduct of these two 



1C09.] THE PILGRIMS IN AMSTERDAM AND LEYDEN. 61 

mariners at our doors. It would, of course, with impediments such as these, 
be some time before the emigration could be fully effected. Some, it seems, 
were disheartened, and remained in England ; but the greater part persevered 
in the design, and met together at Amsterdam, where they remained in great 
peace and unity among themselves for about a twelvemonth." 

At length the disputes and controversies that arose among the English 
Nonconformists in Amsterdam induced Robinson, who was a lover of peace, 
after a year's stay at Amsterdam, to remove with his congregation to Leyden. 
Here the little church over which he presided remained for several years, in 
such a state of perfect harmony among themselves, and charity to those around 
them, as to call forth the public eulogium of the magistrates of the city. 
Brewster, who had expended his fortune in assisting his brethren, maintained 
himself by teaching languages, and by setting up a press, while Bradford, 
with some others, engaged in the manufacture of silk. 

Enjoying thus a safe asylum, and respected by the citizens of the country 
they had chosen as a refuge, the little band of exiles for conscience' sake 
were, notwithstanding, ill at ease. Their first impulse had been merely to 
escape from persecution, but as time rolled on, they began to long for some 
lasting abiding place in- the new-found world, of which such interesting ac- 
counts were continually reaching them, where they could carry out their 
cherished idea of a Christian commonwealth, and, to use the language of Brad- 
ford, " lay a foundation for the gospel of Christ in these remote parts — even 
but as stepping-stones to others for the performance of so great a work." This 
desire was strengthened by various inconveniences they felt or dreaded. They 
feared, with English patriotism, lest their successors should be absorbed among 
a people whose language and usages were strange, and lest their youth should 
be led from the strict profession of their tenets, or be corrupted by the licence 
of manners prevailing around them. Faith — the great principle of their lives 
— led them to go forth under Divine guidance with the full confidence of a 
successful issue. " We verily believe," said Robinson and Brewster, in a 
letter to Sir Edward Sandys, "that the Lord is with us, to whom and whose 
service we have given ourselves in many trials; and that he will graciously 
prosper our endeavours, according to the simplicity of our hearts. Second, 
we are well weaned from the delicate milk of our mother country, and inured 
to the difficulties of a strange land. Third, the people are, for the body of 
them, industrious and frugal, we think we may safely say, as any company of 
people in the world. Fourth, we are knit together as a body in the most 
strict and sacred bond and covenant of the Lord ; of the violation whereof we 
make great conscience, and by virtue whereof we hold ourselves straitly 
tied to all care of each other's good, and of the whole. Fifth, and lastly, it 
is not with us as with other men, whom small things can discourage, or small 
discontentments cause to wish ourselves at home again. We know our enter- 
tainment in England and Holland. We shall much prejudice both our acts 
and means by removal ; where if we should be driven to return, Ave should 
not hope to recover our present helps and comforts, neither indeed look ever 



62 ABRANGEMENTS FOR GOING TO VIRGINIA. [1G20. 

to attain the like in any other place during our lives, which are now drawing 
towards their period." 

Their resolution solemnly taken, the scene of their emigration was next to 
be determined. It is in proof of the great esteem they had acquired that the 
Dutch, in learning their intention, " desired that they would go with them, 
and made them large offers." This, however, love to the country which had 
cast them forth from her bosom forbade. Debating for some time between 
Guiana and Virginia, they at length decided on the latter colony. As it had, 
however, been settled by Episcopalians, and the public profession of adher- 
ence to the Church of England was required and enforced by penalties, they 
sent over agents to England, to endeavour to make terms with the Virginia 
Company, and to insure for themselves liberty of conscience in case of 
their removal to their colony. The Company, desirous of attaching to the 
soil so valuable a body of emigrants, whose steadiness and character they ap- 
preciated, endeavoured to obtain, through their influence with the heads of 
Church and State, an assurance of toleration. But the spirit of bigotry was 
more rampant than ever at home ; and fresh edicts were launched against the 
Puritans even while the negociation was pending. Influence so far prevailed 
as to extort from the king a promise that he Avould connive at and not molest 
them, if they remained in studious obscurity, but to grant them toleration by 
his public authority under his seal he positively refused. The agents were 
obliged to return unsuccessful to Leyden ; and with Brewster now proceeded 
to England, to obtain as favourable a patent as they could, though unaccom- 
panied by liberty of conscience. This was readily granted by the Virginia Com- 
pany, although the patent taken out was never of any practical use. The 
next difficulty was to procure means, which could only be done by entering 
into an arrangement with a company of London merchants, whose terms were 
exceedingly unfavourable to the emigrants. The whole proj)erty acquired in 
the colony was to belong to a joint-stock for seven years ; and the services of 
each emigrant were only to be held equivalent to every ten pounds furnished 
by the capitalists. Upon these hard terms they now prepared to set out on 
their long-desired pilgrimage. 

It was decided, upon the general request, that Hobinson should remain with 
such of the congregation as were deemed unfit for pioneers, or were unable to 
find room in the vessels. A small ship, the Speedwell, had been purchased in 
Holland, and was now ready to convey the emigrants to Southampton. Those 
appointed to go accordingly left Leyden, accompanied by their brethren to 
Delft Haven, where they were joined by members of the church at Amster- 
dam. The night was spent in mutual encouragement and Christian converse ; 
and next day, July 22, the wind being fair, they got ready to go on board. 
Since Paul took his final leave of the elders of the church upon the sacred 
strand of Miletus, when they wept " lest they should see his face no more," 
scarcely had a more solemn or affecting scene taken place than this parting of 
the apostolic Eobinson with his flock. He fell upon his knees with them, and 
while the tears poured down his cheeks, commended them, with fervent prayer. 



1620.] THE MA YFLOWER 8ETS SAIL FROM PL Y3I0 UTH. 63 

to God. The choking sensations which accompany the parting of lover and 
friend, of child and parent, were tranquillized by the soothing and exalting 
efficacy of faith; and thus they arose comforted and went on board, — the 
sails were loosened to the wind, and among the hoarse cries of the sailors, and 
the rough heaving of the vessel, the parting exiles strained their eyes to catch 
the last glimpse of those whom but few of them were destined to see again 
on earth. 

A fair breeze soon carried them to Southampton, where they remained a 
few days, and were joined by the larger vessel, the Mayflower. Here they 
received a letter from E-obinson, which was read to the assembled company. 
Its tone and tenor were admirably calculated to suggest and enforce that 
brotherly concord which was the only guarantee of their success. — " Loving 
and Christian friends, — I do heartily, and in the Lord, salute you all as being 
they with whom I am present in my best affection, and most earnest longings 
after you, though I be constrained for a while to be bodily absent from you ; 
I say constrained, God knowing how willingly and much rather than other- 
wise I would have borne my part with you in this first brunt, were I not by 
strong necessity held back for the present. Make account of me in the mean 
while as of a man divided in myself with great pain, and (natural bonds set 
aside) having my better part with you. * * * * 

* * * * " As, first, you are many of you strangers, as to the persons, so to 
the infirmities one of another, and so stand in need of more watchfulness this 
way, lest when such things fall out in men and women as you suspected not, 
you be inordinately affected with them ; which doth require at your hands 
much wisdom and charity for the covering and preventing of incident of- 
fences that way. And lastly, your intended course of civil community will 
minister continual occasion of offence, and will be as a fuel for that fire, except 
you diligently quench it with brotherly forbearance. * * * * 

" Let every man repress in himself, and the whole body in each person, as 
so many rebels against the public good, all private respects of men's selves, 
not sorting with the general conveniency. And as men are careful not to 
have a new house shaken with any violence before it be well settled and the 
parts firmly knit, so be you, I beseech you, brethren, much more careful that 
the house of God, which you are and are to be, be not shaken with unneces- 
sary novelties or other oppositions at the first settling thereof." 

After distributing their company into the two ships, they set sail from South- 
ampton, but had scarcely got out into the open channel before the smaller ves- 
sels became so leaky that the master refused to advance ; — a few hours more 
would have sunk her. They put into Dartmouth, where a week's delay 
took place, and when they had proceeded about a hundred leagues from the 
Land's End, it was feared that the crazy SjDcedwell was unseaworthy, and 
must return home with such of the emigrants as were willing. Crowding 
the larger bark with the remainder, after " a second sad leave-taking," the 
ships parted company, and the Mayflower proceeded on her solitary 
Toyage, to encounter the full fury of the equinoctial gales. For days to- 



64 THE VOYAGE OF THE 3IAYFL0WER. [1G20. 

gether they were forced to scud before the wind without a rag of sail, in 
danger of foundering, the heavy seas straining her upper works, and so loosen- 
ing and warping the main beam amidships, that but for " a great iron screw 
that one of the passengers had brought from Holland," by means of which 
they contrived to fix and strengthen it, the captain and officers had serious 
thoughts of putting about and returning. Struggling with these tempestuous 
seas, after a long passage of two months from Southampton, at day-break, on 
the ninth of November, they came in sight of the coast of New England, off 
the far famed headland of Cape Cod. 

The object of the pilgrims had been to settle near the Hudson River, and 
they now ran down to the southward, but getting among dangerous shoals, 
bore up again for Cape Cod, and came to an anchor within its harbour. After 
their rude tossing, the sight of the wooded land and the sweet breezes that 
Came off the shore were reviving, while the vast store of fish and fowl, with 
the number of whales playing round the ship, proved that they had lighted 
upon a spot fertile in resources. Eager to land, they resolved nevertheless, in 
consequence of some signs of dissension, to frame themselves into a body, and 
to appoint a governor. John Carver, Bradford, also Elder Brewster, and 
Captain Miles Standish, were the leading personages among the company : 
the choice unanimously fell upon "the first. The document signed by them is 
worthy of citation as the first voluntary compact of popular liberty and 
equal rights. 

" In the name of God. Amen. We, whose names are underwritten, the 
loyal subjects of our dread sovereign lord. King James, by the grace of God, 
of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, King, defender of the faith, etc. 

" Having undertaken, for the glory of God, and the advancement of the 
Christian faith, and the honour of our king and country, a voyage to plant 
the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these presents, 
solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one of another, covenant 
and combine ourselves together into a civil body-politic, for our better order 
and preservation, and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof 
to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, 
constitutions, offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and 
convenient for the general good of the colony ; unto which we promise all 
due submission and obedience. In witness whereof we have hereunder sub- 
scribed our names. Cape Cod, 11th November, in the reign of our sovereign 
lord. King James, of England, France, and Ireland, 18, and of Scotland, 54. 
Anno Domini 1620." 

This agreement was. signed by all the men, who with their wives and 
families made up the number of one hundred and one. 

ThiTS, by the impossibility of obtaining toleration in Virginia, and by losing 
their way to the Hudson, circumstances apparently accidental, but really 
providential, the emigrants were led to the New England shores. Arrived at 
the desired term of their long voyage, the pilgrims found that their sufferings 
were but about to commence. They had reached a wild, inhospitable coast. 



1620.] THE PILGRIM FATHERS REACH NEW ENGLAND. 65 

with its severe frosts and cutting winds, as the winter was beginning to set in, 
and of the very first of those who went on shore, many, having to wade through 
the freezing water, '' caught the original of their deaths." The shallop was 
unshipped and found to require repairs, and the progress was so slow that it 
was determined to send out an exploring party of sixteen men, armed with 
musket, sword, and corslet, under the conduct of Standish, who, after a vain 
research, came home weary and exhausted. The shallop at length finished, the 
party again set out. Sufiering severely from the advancing season, and 
wading hills and valleys covered with snow, they returned without making any 
discovery beyond deserted wigwams, a little buried corn, and some graves. 
The winter was now arrived, and it was absolutely necessary to fix upon some 
spot for a settlement. Again the shallop was sent off" with Carver, Bradford, 
Standish, and seven others, the hardiest that could be found, and for five weeks 
the party buffeted with the severity of the season, — the spray of the sea freez- 
ing on them, and making their coats like cast-iron, while to all these priva- 
tions and sufferings were added the jealous hostility of the ambushed Indians. 
" About five o'clock in the morning," says their Journal, " we began to be 
stirring. After prayer, we prepared ourselves for breakfast, and for a jour- 
ney, it being now the twilight in the morning." The savage war-ivlioop of 
iheir enemies, that day for the first time heard, yelled around them, and their 
arrows Acav through the ?.ir. Standish and his followers stood to their arms, 
felie others defended the shallop, and discharged their fire-arms, which put 
ihe savages to flight. " By the special providence of God," says the journal, 
•n a vivid account of their battle, " none of us were hit or hurt. So, after 
we had given God thanks for our deliverance, we took our shallop, and went 
on our journey, and called this place Tlte First Encounter^ 

In hopes of reaching a harbour known to one of their number who had 
been on these coasts before, they sailed on with a fair wind, but in a storm of 
rain and snow, the gale increased, the sea rose and broke the hinges of the 
rudder, and two men were obliged to sveer the shallop with a couple of oars. 
The waves, now wollen by the gale, threatened every moment to swamp the 
boat, their pilot cried out that he saw the harbour, and bade them be of good 
cheer. Straining Dn with all their canvass to get in, their mast split into 
three pieces, and ihe boat was nearly lost, but righting, was driven by 
the flood tide into the harbour. Here, however, fresh perils assailed them ; 
the pilot, mistaking the place, had well nigh run them among breakers, but 
recovering themselves in time, as the night set in, they gained the lee of 
a sandy island, which securely sheltered their little shallop, and upon this 
desolate spot they kept their watch all night in the rain. In the morning of 
Saturday they explored the island, which they found to be uninhabited, 
and here, pressed as they were by their own necessities, and those of 
their anxious comrades on board the Mayflower, " on the sabbath day they 
rested." 

On Monday, the band of pioneers first set foot upon the rock of Plymouth, 
which name was given in grateful memory of their Christian friends in 



66 FOUNDATION OF PLYMOUTH. [1620,21. 

the same town in England. After exploring the neighbourhood, and de- 
ciding upon its fitness for a settlement, they returned with the good news 
to the rest of their people, cooped up on board the Mayflower, " which did 
much comfort their hearts." The anchor was joyfully weighed ; the vessel ar- 
rived on Saturday, and the next day was the last of their sabbaths spent at sea. 
Their first work was to erect habitations to shelter them from the weather. A 
bold hill commanding a look-out over the bay, offered a vantage ground for their 
fort, which was garnished with a few small pieces of ordnance ; at its foot two 
rows of huts were laid out and staked — the habitations of nineteen families. 
The winter had now set in, and although milder than usual, tl>eir labours at 
felling trees and constructing their rude habitations were carried on in the midst 
of constant storms of rain and sleet ; already had the seeds of mortal disease 
been implanted ; by privations and exposure to the rigour of the season, by 
wading through the icy water from the ship to the land, the strong man be- 
came weak as a child, and the delicate frame of woman sunk under the double 
pressure of mental anxiety and physical exhaustion. During this first Avinter 
they faded gradually aWay ; and one of the first entries was the following : — 
" January 29, dies Rose, the wife of Captain Standish." Bradford's wife had 
perished by drowning. But not to follow the melancholy chronicle of bereave- 
ments, suffice it to say, that during these three dreary months one half their 
number were cut off". That winter they had to form seven times more graves 
for the dead than habitations for the living. They were buried on the bank 
not far from the landing — a spot still religiously venerated; and lest the Indians 
should take courage to attack the survivors from their weakened state, the 
soil which covered the graves of their beloved relatives was carefully beaten 
down and planted with a crop of corn. ■ 

The spot upon which Providence had thus cast them, contrary to their 
original design, proved to be beyond the limits of the patent assigned to the 
company of whom they had purchased it. It is singular, not only that former 
attempts to colonize the neighbourhood should have failed, but also that a de- 
structive malady should, not long before, have nearly destroyed all its abori- 
ginal Indian inhabitants. During the winter they were not free ii-om alarm ; 
and a sort of military defensive organization was adopted, under the di- 
rection of Captain Standish. But when the spring came round with its soft 
airs, and hope, tinged with melancholy, began to animate the survivors, and 
the sickness ceased from among them, an Indian, one morning, walked boldly 
into the camp and saluted them in their own tongue — " Welcome English- 
men." He was one of the Sagamores of the "Wampanoags, and told them 
of the great plague, and that the land was free for them to occupy. He was 
received by them with kindness, and soon returned, bringing with him an 
Indian named Squanto, who having been carried off to England in a pi- 
ratical expedition, had fallen into the hands of a merchant of Cornhill, whose 
kindness to him was destined to be repaid with grateful interest to the 
Plymouth settlers. Brought back to New England by Mr. Dormer, he was 
by him made instrumental in healing the animosity kindled in the breasts 



1G21.] FIRST MEETING-HOUSE IN NEW ENGLAND. 67 

of the Indians by these slave-hunting rovers, and he now acted as interpreter 
and guide — showed them how to plant their corn, and caught fish for them 
when starving. Having accompanied the governor to Cape Cod, to trade with 
the Indians and obtain corn, he was taken ill and died, bequeathing his trifling 
possessions as memorials to his English friends, and " desiring the governor 
to pray that he might go to the Englishman's God in heaven." Through the 
mediation of these Indians a treaty of mutual amity and succour had been 
entered into with Massasoit, Sachem of the neighbouring tribe of Wampa- 
noags ; and thus one source of uneasiness was happily set at rest. 

On the approach of spring. Carver was chosen again as governor, but lived 
only a fortnight after his re-election. He had lost his son soon after their 
arrival, and his indefatigable labours during the sickly winter had under- 
mined his strength, and his wife died shortly afterwards. Bradford was ap- 
pointed as his successor. The Mayflower returned to England. In the 
summer arose their Timber Eort, mounted with ordnance, and carefully 
guarded, serving also as the first rude Meeting-House of New England. 
*' This place," says Cheever, " called at first Fort Hill, afterwards changed 
its name to that of the Burying Hill, for it began to be used as the place of 
burial soon after the first year of the Pilgrims' settlement. In building the 
fort, they so constructed it as to make it serve also for the house of public 
worship, where they could calmly praise God, without fear of any sudden 
incursion from the savages. The foundations of the fort are still distinctly 
marked, but the last mention of it in the town records is in 1679, at the close 
of King Philip's war, when the defences were no longer needed. On this 
hill are the graves of several of the Mayflower Pilgrims, Governor Bradford's 
among others, and that of John Howland and his wife Elizabeth. The grave 
of Thomas Clarke, the mate of the Mayflower, is here. This is the place also 
of the grave of the last ruling elder of the first church in Plymouth, Mr. 
Thomas Faunce. He died not till the year 1745, in the 99th year of his age, 
and, of course, was long the living repository of the authentic unwritten tra- 
ditions concerning the first generation of the Pilgrims. The great age to 
which those lived who survived the dreadful trials of the first few yeai-s, is 
remarkable. John Alden, who came in the Mayflower, died at the age of 
89, in 1687, and one of his direct descendants, John Alden of Middleborough, 
died at the age; of 102, in the year 1821. The wife of the Governor Bradford 
died at the age of 80. Elder Brewster, John Howland and his wife Eliza- 
beth, Elder Cushman and his wife Mary, were all from 80 to 90 years of age 
when they died. Thomas Clarke, the supposed mate of the Mayflower, was 
98. The grave-stones over these Pilgrims, if you find them on Burying Hill, 
are not so old as their deaths ; they are said to have been brought over from 
England, and in some cases were not put up till long after the graves of the 
whole generation were made." 

It may be supposed that Kobinson, with those who had remained in Hol- 
land under his charge, awaited with the deepest anxiety intelligence of the 
fate of their brethren. The news of their sufferings, and the grievous mor- 

K 2 



68 ROBINSON WRITES TO THE PILGRIMS. [1631. 

tality amongst them, at length arrived, and awakened feelings which found 
their expression in letters such as the following : — 

" To the Church of God at Plymouth, in New England. Much beloved 
brethren : Neither the distance of place, nor distinction of body, can at all 
either dissolve or weaken that bond of true Christian affection, in which the 
Lord by his Spirit hath tied us together. My continual prayers are to the 
Lord for you ; my most earnest desire is unto you, from which I will flo longer 
keep, if God will, than means can be procured to bring with me the wives and 
children of divers of you, and the rest of your brethren, whom I could not 
leave behind me without great injury both to you and them, and offence to 
God, and all men. The death of so many of our dear friends and brethren, 
oh how grievous hath it been to you to bear, and to us to take knowledge of! 
which if it could be mended with lamenting, could not sufficiently be be- 
wailed : but we must go unto them, and they shall not return unto us ; and 
how many, even of us, God hath taken away here, and in England, since 
your departure, you may elsewhere take knowledge. But the same God has 
tempered judgment with mercy, as otherwise, so in sparing the rest, espe- 
cially those by whose godly and wise government you may be, and I know 
are, so much helped. In a battle it is not looked for but that divers should 
die ; it is thought well for a side if it get the victory, though with the loss 
of divers, if not too many or too great. God, I hope, hath given you the 
victory, after many difficulties, for yourselves and others ; though I doubt not 
but many do and will remain for you and us all to strive with. Brethren, I 
hope I need not exhort you to obedience unto those whom God hath set over 
you in church and commonwealth, and to the Lord in them. It is a Chris- 
tian's honour to give honour according to men's places ; and his liberty, to 
serve God in faith, and his brethren in love, orderly and with a willing and 
free heart. God forbid I should need exhort you to peace which is the bond 
of perfection, and by which all good is tied together, and without which it is 
scattered. Have peace with God first, by faith in his promises, good conscience 
kept in all things, and oft renewed by repentance ; and so one with another 
for His sake which is, though three, one ; and for Christ's sake, who is one, 
and as you are called by one Spirit to one hope. And the God of peace and 
grace and all good men be with you, in all the fruits thereof plenteously upon 
your heads, now and for ever. All your brethren here remember you with 
great love, a general token whereof they have sent you. Yours ever in the 
Lord, John Robinson. Leyden, Holland, June 30th, Anno 1621." 

Such documents as these are in the highest sense historical, since they dis- 
play, as nothing else can, the spirit and the motives which animated the Pil- 
grims. The " hope deferred " of joining his flock was very grievous to Ro- 
binson, prevented as he was from doing so by misunderstandings with the 
London merchants, who refused to send him over. Meanwhile, the care of 
the little church at Plymouth devolved on Elder Brewster, who, possessing 
a good education as well as profound piety, fulfilled the duties of a Chi is- 
tian overseer in a spirit truly apostolical, although he could never be per- 



1G23.] DEATH OF ROBINSON IN HOLLAND. 69 

suacled to assume the office of pastor, and would never receive any emolu- 
ment for Ills services ; but, in the language of Governor Bradford, " was willing 
to take his part and bear his burden with the rest, living many times without 
bread or corn many months together, having many times nothing but fish, and 
often wanting that also ; and drank nothing but water for many years together, 
yea, until within five or six years of his death. And yet he lived, by the 
blessing of God, in health until very old age ; and besides that, would labour 
with his hands in the fields as long as he was able." Of such a stamp were the 
venerable founders of New England. Robinson himself, the patriarch of the 
Plymouth church, was not destined to enter into the promised land. He died 
in Holland ; and it was some years before his family and the rest of the con- 
gregation found means to join the " forefathers " of the expedition. 

The suffering and mortality of the first winter being over, the survivors took 
heart and began to extend the sphere of their discoveries. A party explored 
the shores of Massachusetts Bay and the peninsula upon which the city of 
Boston was soon afterwards founded. With the autumn came fresh trials. 
Another vessel, the Fortune, was sent out by the merchants, having on board 
Cushman, with a new patent, obtained through the good offices of Sir Ferdi- 
nando Gorges. The ship had brought over new mouths, and no provisions ; 
the result was a famine of several months' duration ; all had to be put on half 
allowance ; the corn was all eaten, and the colonists were reduced to the scan- 
tiest rations — chiefly of fish, or to such precarious supplies as were occasionally 
obtained from passing vessels at an exorbitant cost. No cattle had been yet 
imported; their agricultural instruments were scanty and rude, and they 
were almost destitute of boats and tackle to enable them to profit by the shoals 
of fish which abounded on the coasts. Mortality and distress had prevented 
them from subduing the soil^— men, toiling at the rude labours of a first set- 
tlement, " often staggered for want of food." Hitherto everything had been 
shared in common among them ; but here, as it happened in Virginia, the 
possession of private property was found to be a necessary stimulus to industry, 
for even in the best organized communities are to be found the idle and im- 
provident. In the second year of their settlement an agreement was accord- 
ingly entered into, that each family should labour for itself, — the result of 
which proved to be, that instead of being obliged to seek for supplies of corn 
from the Indians, the settlers had now a surplus to dispose of. 

Apprehensions of attack from the Indians were not wanting, but the deci- 
sion and energy of the governor prevented any from being made. The 
powerful Narragansetts, enemies of the Wampanoags, had sent to Plymouth 
a bundle of arrows tied up with the skin of a rattlesnake, in token of defiance 
— Bradford returned the envelope stuffed with powder and shot. The hint 
thus given repressed hostility ; but, to prevent a surprise, the settlement was 
prudently surrounded with a palisade of timbers having three gates. 

But evils which their own peacefulness of demeanour towards the abori- 
gines, or decision when threatened by their hostilities, had warded off, were 
brought about ere long through the criminal recklessness of a new body of 



70 FAILURE IN INTRODUCING EPISCOPACY. [1G23. 

colonists sent out by Weston, to found a separate plantation for his own advan- 
tage. These were men of dissolute character, who, after intruding upon the 
Plymouth settlers, and eating or stealing half their provisions, had attempted a 
settlement at Wissagussett in Massachusetts Bay. Having soon exhausted their 
own stock, they began to plunder the Indians, who formed a conspiracy to cut 
them off. The plot was revealed by the dying Sachem Massasoit. Here the 
colonists had to deplore the same hasty spirit of revenge which had, in almost 
every instance, sown the seeds of lasting hatred and hostility in the Indian 
breast. Captain Stan dish, brave but inconsiderate, surprised Wituwamot, the 
chief of this conspiracy, and put him to death on the spot, together with se- 
veral of his Indians. When Robinson heard of this deplorable occurrence, he 
wrote back to the church, " Oh how happy a thing had it been, had you con- 
verted some, before you had killed any ! " This ill compacted settlement 
shortly afterwards fell to pieces. 

Among various others now attempted along the line of coast, was one 
which merits notice as a curious contrast to that of the Plymouth Pilgrims. 
This was founded by a Captain Wollaston, and named after himself. It fell 
soon after under the management of a London lawyer, one Morton, who 
changed its name from Mount Wollaston to Merry Mount, set up a May- 
pole, as if to satirize the strictness of the Puritans, broached ale and wine, 
and held a drunken carousal, sold or squandered all the provisions and 
stock, and wound up his absurd and mischievous proceedings by the criminal 
folly, if not malicious wickedness, of selling fire-arms to the Indians. This 
'Devil's holiday' soon, however, came to an end: the frightened settlers re- 
quested the interference of the brethren at Plymouth, by whom, accordingly, 
mad Morton was apprehended and held in durance, until they could meet 
with an opportunity of shipj^ing him off to England. 

Sir Ferdinando Gorges, in concert with an enterprising partner named 
Mason, had obtained a grant of territory from Naumkeag, now Salem, to the 
Kennebec, and thence to Canada. Portsmouth and Dover were now founded, 
but long remained mere fishing stations. His son, Robert Gorges, received 
also a grant in Massachusetts Bay, and the appointment of Lieutenant- 
General of New England. He sailed with a considerable number of people 
to take possession, and attempted a settlement at Wissagussett. The settlers 
were now threatened with an evil, against which they had vainly endeavoured 
to provide. With Gorges, came out an Episcopal minister, named Morrell, 
empowered by the Archbishop of Canterbury to exercise ecclesiastical super- 
intendence — he appears, however, to have attempted no interference with 
the established system. Soon after came a minister Avho had received Epis- 
copal ordination, sent out by the company to supply the pastoral office vacant 
by the absence of Robinson ; but his office was unwelcome, and being shortly 
expelled for practising against the colony, he, together with his adherents, 
formed a settlement at Nantasket. The colonists were thus left to follow 
their own persuasions, though not Avithout occasional dissensions among them- 
selves. Gorijes remained little more tluui a year in Xcav England. Thus 



1621.] THE GOVERNMENT OF BRADFORD. 71 

practically the form of self-government, both civil and ecclesiastical, adopt- 
ed by the Pilgrim Fathers, remained unchallenged and undisturbed. The 
same simple principle existed in both. The form was a strict democracy, 
a little body of settlers forming at once a church and a state, electing their 
own officers in both, and exercising a share in the government. They were 
accustomed to assemble for this purpose at what were called " Town Meetings," 
to confer with the governor upon matters of general concern, in a free, 
friendly, and confidential manner. 

Bradford, who succeeded to Carver in the office of governor, deserves the 
most honourable mention among the fathers of the infant colony. " He was in 
an eminent degree," says Cheever, " the moving and guiding genius of the 
enterprise. His conduct towards the Indians was marked with such wisdom, 
energy, and kindness, that he soon gained a powerful influence over them. 
With the people of the colony, not merely his first fellow-pilgrims, but all that 
came successively afterwards, he had equal authority and power; without the 
necessity of assuming it. The most heedless among them seemed to fear and 
respect him. He set them all at work, and would have none idle in the com- 
munity, being resolved that if any would not work neither should they eat. 

" His administration of affairs, as connected with the merchant adventurers, 
was a model of firmness, patience, forbearance, energy, and enterprise. With 
a few others, as we have seen, he took the whole trade of the colony into his 
hands, with the assumed responsibility of paying off" all their debts, and the 
benevolent determination to bring over the rest of their brethren from Leyden. 
His activity in the prosecution of this great work was indeflitigable. Mean- 
while, no other business, either of the piety or civil policy of the colony, was 
neglected. He made such arrangements, in conjunction with his brethren, to 
redeem their labour from the hopelessness of its conditions in the adventuring 
copartnership under which they were bound for the seven years' contract 
with the merchants, as inspired them all speedily with new life and courage. 
Under the pressure of the famine, his example was as a star of hope, for he 
never yielded to despondency; and while, with Brewster, he threw them 
upon God for support and provision, he set in motion every possible instru- 
mentality for procuring supplies. He went in person with parties among the 
Indians for corn, and took part himself in every labour. 

" In the spiritual prosperity of the colony. Governor Bradford took an in- 
cessant and most anxious interest, possessing in himself, in no small degree, 
the wisdom and temper of his beloved pastor, Robinson. Under him and 
Brewster, the Plymouth church maintained their superiority in the liberality 
and independence of their views above all the other colonies. The answer 
which the governor made to their slanderers in England, in regard to their 
church policy and customs, breathed the very spirit of Scriptural wisdom and 
freedom, so remarkable in the parting discourse of Bobinson to the Pilgrims. 
*■ Whereas you would tie us up to the French discipline in every circumstance, 
you derogate from the liberty we have in Jesus Christ. The apostle Paul 
would have none to follow him in anything, but wherein he follows Christ ; 



72 LIFE OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS. [1633. 

much less ought any Christian or church in the world to do it. The French 
may err, we may err, other churches may err, and doubtless do, in many 
circumstances. That honour, therefore, belongs only to the infallible word 
of God, and pure Testament of Christ, to be jjropounded and followed as the 
only rule and pattern for direction herein to all churches and Christians. 
And it is too great arrogancy for any man or church to think that he, or they, 
have so sounded the word of God unto the bottom, as precisely to set down 
the church's discipline without error in substance or circumstance, that no 
other, without blame, may digress, or differ, in anything from the same. And 
it is not difficult to show that the Reformed Churches differ in many circum- 
stances among themselves.' 

" Bradford presided over the affiiirs of the colony by their own free choice, 
and even affectionate solicitation, for nearly thirty-seven years together, with 
admirable temper and wisdom. In the year 1633, we find a record in Go- 
vernor Winthrop's Journal, as follows : ' Mr. Edward Winslow chosen 
Governor of Plymouth, Mr. Bradford having been Governor about ten years, 
and 1101V hij importiinity got off.'' He pleaded so hard to be let off for that 
year, that they yielded Avithout fining him. Such were the fathers of the 
New England States. They shared each other's burdens too completely to 
seek or desire superiority in any other way. They sought not for office, had 
no parties, wished for no power but that of doing good. It was not till pros- 
perity had relaxed their vigilance, and men of worldly minds had been added 
to their company, that parties began to exist among them. Their church 
covenant was of great solemnity and power with them, ' of the violation 
whereof,' said Robinson, ' we make great consequence, and by virtue whereof 
we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care of each other's good, and of the 
whole by each, and that mutual.'" 

The first settlement of New England, through the midst of distress and 
discouragement, has now been briefly traced. It is a memorable enterprise in 
the history of the world, both for the motives that led to it, as well as its 
momentous and far-reaching consequences. It marks' the period when the 
mind first threw off the trammels of civil and ecclesiastical despotism, and 
sought to found in the New World a Christian democracy uj)on the basis of 
the '* everlasting word." Other settlements of America arose out of commercial 
or patriotic enterprise ; this had its origin in religious enthusiasm. Those 
who founded it walked with God, and in every event beheld his guiding pro- 
vidence. Thus led forth by his hand, life or death were equally welcome. 
In the perils of the deep — amidst sufferings on shore — in failing health — in 
bitter privation — in an untimely fate upon a distant shore — their faith sus- 
tained them. Their trials and distresses were soothed by referring all things 
to the will of God. In the bright sky over their heads — the blue expanse of 
waters — the lovely freshness and wildness of the virgin forest, they beheld 
the traces of his presence and the tokens of his goodness. Their humble fare 
was sweetened by honest labour, undertaken in cheerful submission to the 
Divine will. The spirit of the New Testament, the spirit of brotherly love. 



1C33.] PRIMITIVE BUILDINGS IN PLYMOUTH. 73 

was the sole cement of their simple institutions. Theirs was the only true de- 
mocracy, to love one another as themselves ; theirs the only true government, 
when the ambition of the greatest is to be the servant of all. 

That in some respects they were not above the spirit of their age, the age of 
sectarian prejudice, sharpened by bitter persecution, was unavoidable. But 
their deep religious feeling, their stern integrity, their guileless simplicity, 
their passion for freedom and abhorrence of oppression, their obedience to 
law, their steady courage and hardy enterprise, their laborious, frugal, and 
self-denying habits, were the noble qualities which, rooted by them in the 
land, and transmitted to their descendants, formed the solid and immovable 
foundations of the American State. These moral and intellectual character- 
istics are also the salt wherewith the great republic has been preserved from 
that corruption, which its unprecedented progress in material prosperity might 
otherwise, but too probably, have engendered. 

The affectionate interest with which every memorial of the Pilgrim Fathers 
is regarded throughout the United States, will probably justify the insertion 
of the visit of a recent traveller to the scene of their first settlement. 

" We admired," says Sir C. Lyell, " the fine avenues of drooping elms in 
the streets of Plymouth as we entered, and went to a small, old-fashioned inn, 
called the Pilgrim House, where I hired a carriage, in which the landlord 
drove us at once to see the bay and visit Plymouth beach. 

" The wind was bitterly cold, and we learnt that, on the evening before, 
the sea had been frozen over, near the shore ; yet it was two months later, 
when, on the 22nd of December, 1620, now called Forefathers' Day, the Pil- 
grims, consisting of 101 souls, landed here from the Mayflower. No wonder 
that half of them perished from the severity of the first winter. They who 
escaped seem, as if in compensation, to have been rewarded with unusual 
longevity. We saw in the grave-yard the tombs of not a few Avhose ages 
ranged from seventy-nine to ninety-nine years. The names inscribed on their 
monuments are very characteristic of Puritan times, with a somewhat grotesque 
mixture of other very familiar ones, as Jerusha, Sally, Adoniram, Consider, 
Seth, Experience, Dorcas, Polly, Eunice, Eliphalet, Mercy, «S:c. The New 
Englanders laugh at the people of the "' Old Colony " for remaining in a pri- 
mitive state, and are hoping that the railroad from Boston, now nearly com- 
plete, may soon teach them how to go a-head. But they who visit the to"^vn 
for the sake of old associations, will not complain of the antique style of many 
of the buildings, and the low rooms, with panelled walls, and huge wooden 
beams projecting from the ceilings, such as I never saw elsewhere in America. 
Some houses, built of brick brought from Holland, notwithstanding the abund- 
ance of brick-earth in the neighbourhood, were pointed out to us in Leyden 
Street, so called from the last town in Europe where the pilgrims sojourned 
after they had been driven out of their native country by religious persecution. 
In some private houses we were interested in many venerated heir-looms, kept 
as relics of the first settlers, and among others an antique chair of carved wood. 



74 RELICS PRESERVED IN PLYMOUTH. [1633. 

which came over in the Mayflower, and still retains the marks of the staples 
which fixed it to the floor of the cabin. This, together with a seal of Governor 
Winslow, was shown me by an elderly lady, Mrs. Hanwood, daughter of a 
Winslow and a White, and who received them from her grandmother. In a 
public building, called Pilgrim Hall, we saw other memorials of the same kind, 
as, for example, a chest or cabinet, which had belonged to Peregrine "White, 
the first child born in the colony, and which came to him from his mother, 
and had been preserved to the fifth generation in the same family, when it 
was presented by them to the Museum. By the side of it was a pewter dish, 
also given by the White family. In the same collection they have a chair 
brought over in the Mayflower, and the helmet of King Philip, the Indian 
chief, with whom the first settlers had made a desperate fight. 

" A huge fragment of granite, a boulder which lay sunk in the beach, has 
also been traditionally declared to have been the first spot which the feet of 
the Pilgrims first trod when they landed here ; and part of this same rock still 
remains on the wharf, while another portion has been removed to the centre 
of the town, and enclosed within an iron railing, on which the names of forty- 
two of the Pilgrim Fathers have been inscribed. They who cannot sympathize 
warmly with the New Englanders for cherishing these precious relics, are not 
to be envied, and it is a praiseworthy custom to celebrate an annual festival, 
not only here, but in places several thousand miles distant. Often in New 
Orleans, and other remote parts of the Union, we hear of settlers from the 
North meeting on the 22nd of December, to commemorate the birth- day 
of New England ; and when they speak fondly of their native hills and val- 
leys, and recall their early recollections, they are drawing closer the ties 
which bind together a variety of independent States into one great con- 
federation. 

" Colonel Perkins, of Boston, well known for his munificence, especially for 
founding the Asylum for the Blind, informed me in 1846, that there was but 
one link wanting in the chain of personal communication between him and Pe- 
regrine White, the first white child born in Massachusetts, a few days after the 
Pilgrims landed. White lived to an advanced age, and Avas known to a man of the 
name of Cobb, whom Colonel Perkins visited in 1807, with some friends who 
yet survive. Cobb died in 1808, the year after Colonel Perkins saw him. He 
was then blind, but his memory fresh for everything which had happened in 
his manhood. He had served as a soldier at the taking of Louisbourg, in Cape 
Breton, in 1745, and remembered when there were many Indians near Ply- 
mouth. The inhabitants occasionally fired a cannon near the town to frighten 
them, and to this cannon the Indians gave the name of ' Old Speakum.' 

" When we consider the grandeur of the results which have been realized 
in the interval of 225 years, since the Mayflower sailed into Plymouth Har- 
bour, — how in that period a nation of twenty millions of souls has sprung 
into existence, and peopled a vast continent, and covered it with cities 
and churches, schools, colleges, and railroads, and filled its rivers and ports 



1630.] COLONY OF MASSACHUSETTS BAY. 75 

with steam-boats and shipping ; we regard the Pilgrim relics with that 
kind of veneration which trivial objects usually derive from high antiquity 
alone." 

[In the composition of this chapter the author has to acknowledge his obligations to the Rev. 
R. Hunter's recent valuable tract on the English Localities of the Pilgrim Fathers, as 
also to the excellent work of Dr. Cheever.] 



CHAPTER VI. 



COLONY OF MASSACHUSETTS BAT. — PRELIMINARY ATTEMPTS. — EMIGRATION UNDER ■WINTHROP. — 
ESTABLISHMENT OF THE THEOCRACY.— RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE. — ROGER WILLIAMS AND MRS, 
HUTCHINSON. — FOUNDATION OF CONNECTICUT. — THE PEQUOD WAR. 

The settlement of the Independents was soon followed by another and more 
extensive one of the Puritans upon the shores of Massachusetts Bay. The 
increasing uneasiness of their position in England, led many, even of the 
higher ranks of the gentry, to desire a similar refuge in the New World, to 
that established by the Pilgrims at Plymouth. White, a clergyman of Dor- 
chester, leaving a few settlers at Naumkeag, or Salem, after a first abortive 
attempt, repaired to England, and soon succeeded in interesting a body of 
gentlemen in the scheme. 

It should be here observed, that the first original charter of Virginia had 
empowered the patentees to form a second colony in the northern portion of 
the territory, comprised Avithin the limits of their patent ; and more than one 
attempt was made to this effect, but with little or no success. One of them 
was by the gallant Captain Smith, distinguished for his participation in the 
affairs of Virginia, and from him the coast first received its lasting appellation 
of New England. Meanwhile, the Plymouth company succeeded in obtain- 
ing an exclusive patent for all the northern portion of the territory bestowed 
upon the original Virginia company. The settlement of the Plymouth Pil- 
grims had anticipated any measures for colonization under the auspices of the 
new company. 

A grant Avas obtained from this Ncav England company of Plymouth, em- 
bracing Massachusetts Bay, and the country extending to the AvestAvard. The 
first settlement was effected under the conduct of John Endicott, Avho estab- 
lished himself at Naumkeag. On exploring the head of Massachusetts Bay, 
a fcAV solitary squatters Avere found to have occupied the principal points. A 
strong body, chiefly from the neighbourhood of Boston in Lincolnshire, soon 
foliOAved, and a fresh patent was obtained from Charles I., incorporating the 
adventurers as the Governor and Company of Massachusetts Bay in Ncav Eng- 

L 2 



76 EMIGRATION TO BOSTON UNDER WINTHROP. [1630. 

land, the stockholders to elect annually a governor, deputy-governor, and 
eighteen assistants, who were to adnainister the affairs of the colony in monthly 
court meetings. Four great and general courts of the whole body of freemen 
were to be held for the transaction of public affairs. Nothing might be en- 
acted contrary to the rights of Englishmen, but the supreme power resided 
with the company in England. It was exclusively regarded as a patent for 
a trading corporation, and no provision was made for securing religious 
toleration. Indeed the great body of the proprietor* were still attached to the 
Church of England ; and when Endicott, who, having visited Plymouth, de- 
sired to establish an Independent church, and to renounce the use of the 
English liturgy, became involved in a dispute with certain of the more mo- 
derate, a ad these were sent home to England by him as contumacious, he was 
indirectly reprimanded by the comj)any for this dangerous stretch of authority. 

A plan to transfer the charter and the company from England to the colony 
itself ^as next formed, which led to a very important increase in the number 
and dii:tinction of the emigrants. The principal of these were, Sir Richard 
Salton*^ tall, Isaac Johnson, (brother-in-law of the Earl of Lincoln,) Thomas 
Dudley, and John Winthrop. Winthrop was chosen governor, and, by his 
admirable conduct, fully justified the general confidence. He was indeed a 
noble specimen of the Puritan English gentleman — loyal, yet no less sternly 
bent upon the assertion of public liberty, and, by old association, attached to 
the Church, which he nevertheless desired to see reformed upon what he 
deemed the pure basis of Scripture. The emigrants included many persons 
of high character, wealth, and learning. Their attachment to the mother 
country was manifested in a protestation against certain calumnious reports 
which had gone forth against them, wherein they declare their undying attach- 
ment, both to the Church that had nursed them in her bosom, and to the laud, 
from which a lofty feeling of enterprise, and the desire of founding a stricter 
form of government among themselves, had led to their voluntary expatriation. 
The expedition was by far the most important that had ever left the shores 
of England for the wilds of America, consisting of fifteen ships conveying 
about a thousand emigrants, among whom were several eminent Noncon- 
formist ministers. Every necessary for the foundation of a permanent colony 
was carried out by the settlers. 

Winthrop himself had embarked on board the Arabella, so called after 
Lady Arabella Johnson, who, with her husband, were also passengers. This 
vessel and some of the others reached Massachusetts Bay in June and July, 
and found a settlement already established, under the auspices of Endicott, at 
Charlestown. Upon the opposite peninsula, which had been called, from its pe- 
culiar form, ' Trimountain,' and Avas then in a state of nature, inhabited by a 
single squatter, Winthrop determined to establish the seat of his government, 
and a town was accordingly begun, which, after the parent English birth-place 
of the principal emigrants, received the name of Boston. The others, as they 
arrived, formed a cluster of settlements at short distances around this central 
post, and thus the shores of Massachusetts Bay became sprinkled with infant 



1630.] ESTABLISHMENT OF THE THEOCRACY. 77 

towns, wliicli have retained their local name and habitation unto the pre- 
sent day. 

Although the hardships encountered by this large body of emigrants were 
not so severe as those which had befallen their brethren at Plymouth, they 
were felt the more severely on account of the superior delicacy and tender 
nurture to which they had been accustomed at home. The older settlers, far 
from rendering them assistance, flocked to them for food and succour. The 
winter, moreover, proved to be of unusual severity, even for this bitter climate. 
The weakest were winnowed by death, two hundred perished before De- 
cember. Among the first victims were the Lady Arabella Johnson and her 
husband. Many, terrified with the hardships to be encountered, lost heart 
and returned to England, where they spread the most injurious reports. 
But the hope of accomplishing that for which so many had left the luxuries 
and refinements of England, the desire to found on the shores of America a 
purer form of civil and religious government, sweetened to those that re- 
mained behind the temporary hardships through which they were called 
upon to pass. 

Their proceedings were eminently characteristic of the religious spirit by 
which they were animated. Their settlement had been consecrated by a 
solemn fast. They first assembled for worship under a large tree, but a 
church was forthwith constituted, and a pastor aj^pointed, while the first ques- 
tion which arose at the first court of assistants was touching the maintenance 
of the ministers, for whom a due provision Avas immediately set apart. 

At the first general court, many new freemen were admitted, among whom 
were several of the early planters, and the right of filling vip the vacancies that 
fell among the assistants, was conceded to them, but afterwards rescinded. 

A very extraordinary law was next enacted. " To the end that the body 
of commons may be preserved of good and honest men, it is ordered and 
agreed, that, for the time to come, no man shall be admitted to the freedom 
of the body politic, but such as are members of some of the churches Avithin 
the limits of the same." The reason for this singular enactment is apparent. 
The Puritan emigrants had left England to establish a form of government 
which was afterwards vainly attempted during the revolution — a spiritual 
millennium, the reign of the saints upon the earth. In their eyes no one who 
had not been elected a member of Christ's church by saving grace, and was 
not thoroughly weaned from the corruptions of this present evil world, could 
be fitted to assume a share in the government of a Christian commonwealth, 
which was to be founded on the maxims, and conducted under the influence of 
the Bible. Hence their evident disposition to avoid an influx of the " baser 
sort," until their theocratic form of goA^ernment had fully taken root. The 
excellence of their motiA'es in shutting out from power those Avhom they 
deemed unfit for its participation, cannot of course be questioned. In those days 
toleration Avas unknown, and every religious party regarded it not only as a 
right, but even as a duty, to enforce conformity to its tenets by the power 
of the civil magistrate. 



78 GREAT INFLUENCE OF THE CLERGY. [1633, 34. 

Under this arbitrary system, however, a large proportion of the popula- 
tion -were deprived of political rights, and the legislation of this self-con- 
stituted body was characterized by a spirit of puritanical severity A\ithin 
themselves, and a harsh and rigid exclusiveness towards those without, 
which were not long in producing the same bitter fruits of persecution by 
which they had themselves suffered. The clergy acquired an undue degree 
of influence ; minute enactments interfered with individual freedom of action, 
amusements which, though innocent in themselves, were su^jposed to be 
inconsistent with the gravity of professing Christians, were studiously dis- 
couraged, and devotional exercises substituted in their room. Under this 
austere and forbidding exterior, however, existed a spotless purity of life, the 
most exalted integrity, and the noblest patriotism. The faults of the Puritans 
arose partly out of their peculiar views, and partly from mistakes shared by 
them, at that day, in common with every other religious body. 

The evil report carried back by those who returned from the first emi- 
gration, operated at first as a great discouragement to others, and in the 
following year the number of new-comers was comparatively small. Among 
them, however, was the son of Winthrop the governor, and John Eliot, 
afterwards the great missionary to the Indians. A friendly connexion was 
formed with the people of Plymouth, and a trade opened with the colonists in 
Virginia, and the Dutch on the Hudson river, while an alliance was entered 
into with the neighbouring Indians. On the fourth year of the settlement, 
several hundred immigrants arrived, among whom were the wealthy and esti- 
mable Haynes, and two distinguished ecclesiastics, Cotton and Hooker. 
With the growing numbers and prosjjerity of the colonists, came an in- 
crease also in popular liberty and a growth of the democratic element. The 
jealous watchfulness of the great body of freemen had been excited by the 
levy of taxes under the sole authority of the assistants, and at the next general 
court they contended for the right of annually choosing the governor and offi- 
cers. This was conceded, and rej)resentatives appointed from the towns to 
confer on the affairs of the colony. Thus emboldened, the democratic spirit 
continued its encroachments. Men thrown upon. their oAvn resources at a 
distance from the control of the mother country ripen rapidly for freedom. 
At first the freemen, satisfied with the recognition of their claims, had re- 
elected their established officers ; two years later, notwithstanding a pulpit 
appeal from Colton, against the rash changing of those in office, they pro- 
ceeded to choose a new governor in the place of Winthrop. They claimed 
and obtained besides, the right of legislative participation, and of levying 
taxes, with a written constitution, while the ballot box was also introduced 
in substitution for a show of hands by the voters. 

The same circumstances that had brought about this political change, had 
also affected the condition of the New England churches. Nominally sub- 
jected to the Church at home, these communities soon became practically 
independent of her authority, choosing their own ministers and officers, each 
acting for itself, while yet the whole were bound together by a general model 



1631-34.] SCRUPLES OF ROGER WILLIAMS. 79 

establislied among themselves. Thus had Massachusetts already assumed its 
distinctive character of a government at once within itself a church and a 
commonwealth, in which all the members possessed equal rights, and were 
animated by the same earnest yet exclusive religious profession ; the profane 
and unregcnerate being jealously shut out from any participation in power, 
and also forced to conform, at least externally, to the established form of re- 
ligion. 

It was not long before this state .of things, so happily established that it ex- 
cited the admiration and envy of the English Puritans, was rudely disturbed 
by a single individual, whose remarkable character corabined an almost childish 
eccentricity abovit trifles, with a clearness of moral vision and a greatness of 
?oul in other matters remarkably in advance of the times and circumstances 
in which he lived. This was Roger Williams, a youijg Puritan preacher, who, 
soon after his arrival in the colony, began to broach certain novelties and he- 
resies, which caused much perturbation among his brethren, and occasioned his 
removal to Plymouth, where he remained for two years.. Returning to Mas- 
sachusetts, it was not long before he became involved in fresh disputes and 
difficulties. Among other fanatical scruples, he entertained one against the 
cross displayed on the English standard, as being a relic of Popery — he loudly 
inveighed against its being any longer tolerated by a reformed church; his 
views gained ground, and a division of the colony took place on this important 
subject. One half of the militia abhorred to follow a papistical ensign, the other 
refused to march under a mutilated banner : Endicott, one of the assistants, in 
an ebullition of zeal, cut out the obnoxious emblem ; and the dispute was only 
settled by a compromise, that the cross should be retained in the flags of forts 
and ships, but erased from those of the local militia. This, together with his 
affirmation of the unlawfulness of attending the ministry of any clergyman of 
the English Church, to which Williams had conceived a peculiar aversion, 
and other attempts at innovations, either trifling or mischievous, so zealously 
propagated, seem justly enough to have incurred the censure of his brethren 
in the ministry, not only as calculated to disturb the harmony of their theo- 
cratic state, but also to attract the attention of their enemies in England. An 
excess of conscientiousness had led him also, while at Plymouth, to preach 
against the lawfulness of the patent by which the colonists derived their terri- 
torial claims, as being unjustly granted at the expense of those of the Indians. 
This, however, he satisfactorily explained away. But his most serious and un- 
pardonable offence was, that he boldly affirmed the sacred right of private 
judgment, and the unlawfulness of persecution for conscience' sake. He in- 
veighed against the alleged authority of the magistrate to punish offences 
of the first table, to compel attendance upon Divine service under penalty, or 
to levy contributions from the unwilling for the support of the church. Nay, 
he affirmed that " the magistrate might not intermeddle even to stop a church 
from apostacy and heresy," that his jurisdiction extended solely to the tem- 
poral affliirs of men, and that the removal of the " yoke of soul oppression," 
" as it will prove an act of mercy and righteousness to the enslaved nations, so 



80 ROGER WILLIAMS AMONG THE INDIANS. [1634. 

it is of binding force tc engage the whole and every interest and conscience 
to preserve the common liberty and peace."* 

These principles struck at the very root of the theocratic constitution 
established by general consent of the colonists, and a conscientious conviction of 
their dangerous tendency, led the court at Boston earnestly to desire the re- 
moval of one whom they could not but regard as unsettled in judgment, and 
a troubler of the public peace. It was certainly unfortunate that the scru- 
ples of Williams were such as had a tendency to divide and weaken the 
colony, struggling as it was for independent existence, under the jealous 
and watchful eye of the arbitrary power in England. His agitations even 
tended to paralyse resistance against aggressions which they tended to 
bring about. The newly established liberties of the Massachusetts colonists 
were dear to them, and the magistrates having heard of dangerous designs 
against them on the part of the Episcopalians, it was resolved to administer a 
general pledge, called the " Freeman's Oath," to the effect that the colonists 
would support their local constitution against all foreign interference what- 
soever. But against the imposition of this oath also Williams raised such a 
spirit of resistance, that the magistrates were obliged to give way. In short, 
however excellent the principles he had esj)oused, it cannot be denied that 
his conduct bears some tinge of factious opposition, or, to say the least, 
of an ill-timed and narrow-minded scrupulosity. But his piety was so 
genuine, and his character so noble and disinterested, that the people of Salem, 
who knew and loved him, re-elected him for their pastor, in spite of the cen- 
sure of his doctrines by the court at Boston, an act of contumacy for which 
they were reprimanded and punished by the withholding a certain portion of 
lands. Such harshness aroused Williams to retort by a spirited protest, and 
he engaged the Salem church to join with him in a general appeal to the other 
churches against the injustice of which the magistrates had been guilty — a 
daring proceeding, for which the council suspended their franchise, and they 
shrunk from their leader, who was thus left absolutely alone. Upon this he 
openly renounced allegiance to what he deemed a persecuting church. His 
opinions and conduct were condemned by the council, who pronounced 
against him a sentence of banishment, but on account of the dangerous feeling 
of sympathy it awakened, decided shortly after on sending him back to England. 

It was the depth of a New England -svinter, Avhen Williams fled into the 
wilderness, and took refuge among the Narragansett Indians, with whom he 
had become acquainted at Plymouth. He wandered several weeks through 
the snow-buried forests, before he reached their wigwams, where he was 
received and sheltered with the utmost kindness. In the spring he departed in 
quest of some spot where he could found an asylum for those who, like himself, 
were persecuted for conscience' sake. He first attempted a settlement at 
Sekonk, but afterwards, at the friendly suggestion of Winslow, the governor of 
Plymouth, removed to Narragansett Bay, where he received from the Indians 
a free grant of a considerable tract of country, and in June, 1636, fixed upon the 
* Bancroft — from a rare tract by Roger Williams. 



1G35.] ESTABLISHMENT OF RHODE ISLAND. 81 

site of a town which he called " Providence/' as being an appointed refuge 
from his persecutions and wanderings. Here he was joined by many of his 
adherents from Salem, his lands were freely distributed among them, and thus 
arose the new State of Rhode Island ; the most free, and simple, and untram- 
melled in its institutions of any ever founded on the soil of America. 

Scarcely had the colony subsided after the excitement of this religious dis 
pute, when fresh troubles arose, from the operation of the same restless prin- 
cijjle of private judgment applied to the investigation of the Scriptures. The 
providential establishment of the model State of New England, for such it was 
considered to be by the English Puritans, continued to attract considerable 
numbers of them ; and among others who came over Avere Hugh Peters, the 
chaplain of Oliver Cromwell, and Mr. Henry Vane, son of Sir Henry Vane, a 
privy councillor, a young man of the highest principles and acquirements ; 
second in love of liberty to none of that noble band who stemmed the en- 
croachments of arbitrary power in England, of manners strict to austerity, 
and animated with the highest religious fervour, but of a subtle, restless, and 
speculative genius, which found its favourite field for exercise in the theological 
questions awakened and set afloat at the Reformation. The sonnet of Milton 
sj)eaks of him as " young in years, but in sage counsel old," attributes to him 
the utmost skill in statesmanship, the most intimate knowledge of affairs 
" both spiritual and civil," and, as the highest and crowning encomium, calls 
him the " eldest son " of Eeligion, upon whose " firm hand she leans in peace." 
The emigration of so distinguished a personage, and of others who were prepar- 
ing to follow him, created no little stir among the Massachusetts freemen ; it Avas 
even proposed, to meet the desires of the new-comers, that an order of lieredi- 
tary magistracy should be established ; but as this proposition was inconsistent 
with the peculiar constitution of the Massachusetts theocracy, which could 
be constituted by church members alone, it was eventually laid aside. Vane, 
however, was received with the highest honours, and presently elected as chief 
magistrate of the colony. Not long after his arrival arose a new religious fer- 
mentation, in which he himself soon became a prominent actor ; and as this 
controversy, and the important results to which it led, cannot be better or more 
succinctly stated than in the language of Robertson, it may be well to quote it. 

" It was the custom at that time in New England, among the chief men in 
every congregation, to meet once a week, in order to repeat the sermons which 
they had heard, and to hold religious conference with respect to the doctrines 
contained in them. Mrs. Hutchinson, whose husband was among the most 
respectable members of the colony, regretting that persons of her sex were 
excluded from the benefit of those meetings, assembled statedly in her house 
a number of women, who employed themselves in pious exercises similar to 
those of the men. At first she satisfied herself with repeating what she could 
recollect of the discourses delivered by their teachers. She began afterwards 
to add illustrations, and at length proceeded to censure some of the clergy as 
unsound, and to vent opinions and fancies of her own. These were all founded 
on the system which is denominated Antinomian by divines, and tinged with 



82 MRS. HUTCHINSON KILLED BY THE INDIANS. [1G37. 

the deepest enthusiasm. She taught that sanctity of life is no evidence of jus- 
tificatioUj or of a state of favour with God ', and that such as inculcated the 
necessity of manifesting the reality of our faith by obedience, preached only a 
covenant of works ; she contended that the SjDirit of God dwelt personally in 
good men, and by inward revelations and impressions they received the fullest 
discoveries of the Divine will. The fluency and confidence with which she 
delivered these notions, gained her many admirers and proselytes, not only 
among the vulgar, but among the principal inhabitants. The whole colony 
was interested and agitated. Vane, whose sagacity and acuteness seemed to 
forsake him whenever they were turned towards religion, espoused and de- 
fended her wildest tenets. Many conferences were held, days of fasting and 
humiliation were appointed, a general synod was called; and, after dissen- 
sions which threatened the dissolution of the colony, Mrs. Hutchinson's opi- 
nions were condemned as erroneous, and she herself banished. Several of 
her disciples withdrew from the province of their own accord. Vane quitted 
America in disgust, unlamented even by those who had lately admired him ; 
some of them now regarded him as a mere visionary, and others, as one of those 
dark, turbulent spirits doomed to embroil every society into which they enter." 

The fate of Mrs. Hutchinson was as unhappy as her life was restless. After 
her retirement to Rhode Island, where she participated in all the toils and 
privations of a new settlement, she continued to promulgate her doctrines 
with the utmost ardour. Her sons, openly arraigning the justice of her banish- 
ment, were seized and thrown into prison. To fly beyond the reach of perse- 
cution, the whole family passed over into the territory of the Dutch, at the 
time when Kieft, the governor, had aroused by his rashness and cruelty 
vindictive reprisals on the part of the Indians. The dwelling cf INIrs. Hut- 
chinson was set on fire, and she perished with her children amidst the flames, 
or was murdered by the infuriated savages. 

In the mean time, Massachusetts continued to put forth numerous off'-shoots 
from the parent stem. A permanent settlement had, in 1635, been formed in the 
beautiful valley of the Connecticut, which, from its rich and fertile levels, had, at 
an early period, become a subject of competition. The fort built by the Dutch 
has been already noticed : and now a large body of emigrants from Massa- 
chusetts prepared to push through the virgin forest to the desired spot, where 
the towns of Hartford, Windsor, and Wethersfield had already been founded. 
This proved to be an expedition of great hardship, from its being undertaken 
too late in the year. The cattle perished, provisions were exhausted, and 
many returned through the snows to the places whence they departed. A sta- 
tion for the fur trade had been for some time established at Windsor by another 
body of emigrants. Winthrop the younger had come out with Vane, author- 
ized by the proprietors to settle and take possession of the region. Next year 
a larger body, consisting of the members of two churches with their pastors, 
one of whom was the distinguished Hooker, (who is supposed by some to have 
desired a removal from the vicinity of Cotton, a rival preacher,) made their 
way through the wilderness, steering through the thick woods by compass, 



1636.] PEQUOD CONSPIRACY TO KILL THE COLONISTS. 83 

and driving their cattle before them through the tangled thickets. The com- 
missioners also sent a party by water to found a fort at the mouth of the river, 
"svhich, from the names of Lords Say and Sele and Lord Brooke, the propri- 
etaries, was called Say-brook. The rising colony was exposed to dissensions 
with the Dutch, and placed in jeopardy by hostilities with the neighbouring 
Indians, which they themselves had not originated. 

This war, which ended in the extermination of the Pequods, arose out of 
provocations and misunderstandings trivial in themselves, but which acquired 
a fatal importance from the secret feeling of fear and suspicion with which 
the Indians and the English regarded one another. The former could, not 
behold the progress of the new comers without deep dissatisfaction ; they 
found the territory over which they had long exclusively reigned, encroached 
upon at various points, till they might apprehend, at no distant period, a final 
expulsion from the hunting grounds of their forefathers. On their part, the 
settlers looked with uneasiness upon the savages, like a dark cloud which 
threatened to burst over them when unprepared, as had been the case with 
the massacre of the settlers in Virginia ; and conscious of the feelings with 
which their gradual encroachments were secretly regarded, they determined to 
stand upon their guard, and to punish the first symptoms of aggression vvith 
stern and inexorable severity. The train thus laid, a single Apark was suf- 
ficient to create an explosion. The Pequods were the most powerful confeder- 
acy in the neighbourhood of Narragansett Bay, their authority extending over 
twenty-six petty tribes. A band of them had murdered the captain of a Vir- 
ginia trading vessel, and as this incident created some alarm among the people 
of jMaGsachusetts, the Pequods sent to Boston, urging that the deed had been 
hastily committed in revenge for some provocation on the part of the captain ; 
they offered to give up the surviving murderers, requested the good offices of 
the magistrates to effect a reconciliation with their enemies the Narragansetts, 
and desired to q-^cti a traffic. Satisfied with the apology, the Massachusetts 
magistrates effected the desired mediation ; but the murderers, perhaps from 
inability on the part of the Pequod Sachems, were not delivered up. Some 
time after, one Oldham, an old settler on Block Island, was murdered by a 
party of Narragansett Indians, in revenge for the trade he had opened with 
their late enemies the Pequods.* Although Canonicus, the Narragansett 
Sachem, sent to make ample apology for a crime committed without his know- 
ledge, and, of course, without that of the Pequods, an expedition was sent to 
punish the Indians of Block Island, and thence the chief settlement of the Pe- 
quods, to demand the promised delivery of the murderers. Upon their refusal, 
he destroyed their villages, both there and on the Connecticut. The Pequods 
retaliated, and sent messengers to engage the Narragansetts in a conspiracy to 
cut off" every white man from the soil. Roger Williams, who had sent timely 
information to the magistrates of Massachusetts, was entreated to prevent, if 
possible, the dreaded coalition. He hastened to the Narragansetts, among 
whom his virtues were regarded with veneration, and was happily successful 

* The account given of this transaction by Hildreth is followed. 
M 2 



84 EXPEDITIOX AGAINST THE PEQUODS. [1037. 

in frustrating the influence of tlie Pequod messengers, and engaging the 
goodwill, or at least the neutrality, of the Narragansetts. 

The unfortunate Pequods, thus compelled to stand alone, and forced into 
a war, rather by a concurrence of accidents than by any direct purpose of hos- 
tility, determined to carry it on with their hereditary spirit. After their usual 
tactics, they began to cut off the detached settlers on the Connecticut river by 
surjDrise, and carry off their scalj)s, and they even ventured to attack Fort 
Say-brook. These cruelties soon led to the organization of an expedition 
against them on the part of the people of Connecticut, as well as those of Mas- 
sachusetts. Having obtained the alliance of Uncas, Sachem of the Mohcgans, 
the greater part of the able-bodied men, under the command of Mason, who 
had been a soldier in Flanders, prepared for their departure. It was a perilous 
crisis ; should they fail in the enterj)rise, the infant settlement, left without 
defenders, would fall into the power of their vindictive enemies — their Avives 
and children would be ruthlessly scalped. The night was spent in solemn 
prayer. On the morrow the militia embarked at Hartford, and being joined 
by twenty men from Boston, under the command of Underbill, sailed past 
the Thames, and entered, unobserved, a harbour in the vicinity of the Pequod 
Fort. They rested on the following sabbath, and early in the week endeavoured 
to engage the assistance of the Narragansetts, whose Sachem, Miantonimoh, at 
first joined them with a large body of men, who on learning that the intention 
of the English was to attack the Pequod forts with so small a body, were panic- 
struck, and most of them retreated. The catastrophe cannot be better described 
than in the words of Trumbull, the historian of Connecticut. 

" After marching under the guidance of a revolted Pequod to the vicinity of 
the principal fort, they pitched their little camp between, or near, two large 
rocks, in Groton, since called Porter's rocks. The men were faint and weary, 
and though the rocks were their pillows, their rest Avas sweet. The guards 
and sentinels were considerably advanced in front of the army, and heard the 
enemy singing at the fort, who continued their rejoicings even until midnight. 
They had seen the vessels pass the harbour some days before, and had con- 
cluded that the English were afraid, and had no courage to attack them. The 
night was serene, and towards morning the moon shone clear. The im- 
portant crisis was now come, when the very existence of Connecticut, under 
Providence, was to be determined by the sword in a single action, and to be 
decided by the good conduct of less than eighty brave men. The Indians 
who remained were now sorely dismayed, and though at first they had led the 
van, and boasted of great feats, yet were now fallen back in the rear. About 
two hours before day the men were roused with all expedition, and, briefly 
commending themselves and their cause to God, advanced immediately to the 
fort, and sent for the Indians in the rear to come up. Uncas and Obequash 
at length appeared. The captain demanded of them where the fort was. 
They answered, on the top of the hill. He demanded of them where were the 
other Indians. They answered that they were much afraid. The captain sent 
to them not to fly, but to surround the fort at any distance they pleased, and 



1G37.] DESTRUCTION OF THE PEQUOD FORT. 85 

see whether Englishmen would fight. The day was nearly dawning, and no 
time was now to be lost. The men pressed on in two divisions. Captain Mason 
to the north-eastern, and Underhill to the western entrance. As the object 
which they had been so long seeking came into view, and while they reflected 
that they were to fight not only for themselves, but their parents, wives, chil- 
dren, and the whole colony ; the martial spirit kindled in their bosoms, and 
they were wonderfully animated and assisted. As Captain Mason advanced 
within a rod or two of the fort, a dog barked, aikd an Indian roared out, — 
' Owanux ! Owanux ! ' that is. Englishmen ! Englishmen ! The troops pressed 
on, and as the Indians were rallying, poured in upon them, through the pali- 
sadoes, a general discharge of their muskets, and then wheeling off to the 
principal entrance, entered the fort sword in hand. Notwithstanding the sud- 
denness of the attack, and the blaze and thunder of the arms, the enemy made 
a manly and desperate resistance. Captain Mason and his party drove the 
Indians in the main street towards the west part of the fort, M-here some bold 
men, who had forced their way, met them, and made such slaughter among 
them, that the street was soon clear of the enemy. They secreted themselves 
in and behind their wigwams, and, taking advantage of every covert, main- 
tained an obstinate defence. The captain and his men entered the wigwams, 
where they were beset with many Indians, who took every advantage to shoot 
them, and lay hands upon them, so that it was with great difiiculty that they 
could defend themselves with their swords. After a severe conflict, in which 
many of the Indians were slain, some of the English killed, and others sorely 
wounded, the victory still hung in suspense. The captain, finding himself 
much exhausted, and out of breath, as well as his men, by the extraordinary 
exertions which they had made in this critical state of action, had recourse 
to a successful expedient. He cries out to his men, ' We must burn them ! ' 
He immediately, entering a wigwam, took fire and put it into the mats with 
which the wigwams were covered. The fire instantly kindling, spread with 
such violence, that all the Indian houses were soon wrapped in one general 
flame. As the fire increased, the English retired without the fort, and com- 
passed it on every side. Uncas and his Indians, with such of the Narragan- 
setts as yet remained, took courage from the example of the English, and 
formed another circle in the rear of them. The enemy were now seized Avith 
astonishment ; and, forced by the flames from their lurking-places into open 
light, became a fair mark for the English soldiers. Some climbed the pali- 
sadoes, and were instantly brought down by the fire of the English muskets. 
Others, desperately sallying forth from their burning cells, were shot, or cut 
to pieces with the sword. Such terror fell upon them, that they would run 
back from the English into the very flames. Great numbers perished in the 
conflagration. The greatness and violence of the fire, the reflection of the 
light, the flashing and the roar of the arms, the shrieks and yellings of the 
men, women, and children, in the fort, and the shouting of the Indians with- 
out, just at the dawning of the morning, exhibited a grand and awful scene. 
In little more than an hour, this whole work of destruction was finished. Se- 



86 EXTERMINATION OF THE PEQUODS. [1G37-40. 

venty wigwams were burnt, and five or six hundred Indians perished, either 
by the sword, or in the flames. A hundred and fifty warriors had been sent 
on the evening before, who, that very morning, Avere to have gone forth 
against the EngHsh. Of these and all who belonged to the fort, seven only 
escaped, and seven were made prisoners. It had been previously concluded 
not to burn the fort, but to destroy the enemy, and take the plunder ; but the 
captain afterwards found it the only expedient, to obtain the victory and save 
his men. Thus parents and children, the sannap and squa"\v, the old man and 
the babe, perished in promiscuous ruin." 

In the midst of this frightful scene a large body of Pequod warriors arrived 
to join their brethren at the fort. Frantic with horror and revenge, they 
rushed upon the conquerors, but were easily driven back, and compelled to 
retreat. A portion of the victors hastily returned to prevent a surprise of 
their homes by the Indians, while Mason, having sent his wounded by a vessel 
just arrived from Boston, marched across the country to Fort Saybrook, where 
he was received by the commandant with a discharge of artillery. 

What the men of Connecticut had thus begun, was finished by the militia 
from Massachusetts, who shortly after arrived upon the scene of action. The 
Pequods wxu-e hunted from their hiding-jalaces in the swamps ; their forts de- 
stroyed; their fugitive chief, Sassacus, murdered by the Mohawks, among 
w'hom he had taken refuge ; the male prisoners sold into slavery in the West 
Indies ; the women and children retained as domestic drudges. Some few 
who escaped were incorporated into other tribes, and the very name of the 
once proud and powerful Pequods was blotted from the earth. This ruthless 
process of extermination, which was regarded by the pious settlers in the light 
of a providential victory over their " heathen " enemies, had the effect of 
striking such terror into the surrounding Indians, that the peace of the colony 
was not again disturbed by them for many years afterward. 

The religious dissensions caused by the arbitrary standard set up in Mas- 
sachusetts, had the beneficial effect of causing different emigrations, promoted 
for directly opposite ends. To obtain a more unlimited freedom, Williams 
had laid the foundation of Rhode Island, while the desire of enjoying a still more 
exclusive degree of puritanical strictness, prompted the establishment by 
Davenport of the colony of New Haven, in which church-membership was the 
condition of citizenship, and the Bible the only code of legislation. Wheel- 
wright, banished for his participation in the heresies of Mrs. Hutchinson, 
went forth and planted Exeter. Captain Underbill, involved in the same 
quarrel, and suspected moreover of licence rather soldier-like than edifying, 
was, notwithstanding his bravery, expelled, upon which he retired to Dover. 
Others also departed and founded separate and independent congregations, until 
the whole land was sprinkled with settlements, so many little oases amidst the 
wide-spreading forest which had so lately covered it, and which began rapidly 
to open before the axe of the sturdy woodman. Among these settlements was 
that of Howley in Massachusetts, formed by a company of Yorkshire clothiers, 
under the pastoral superintendence of the pious Ezekiel Rogers. 



1603-23. ] COLONIZA TION OF THE STA TE OF MAINE. 87 

The wild indented coast of Maine had also become sprinkled with a few 
settlements, the progress of which, however, was for some time extremely slow. 
The name of Sir Ferdinando Gorges will be held in honour as one of the most 
persevering of all the planters of the American continent. Having obtained 
a charter from the Plymouth company, he sent out more than one expedition, 
but to little or no purpose. One of these, commanded by Kaleigh Gilbert 
and George Popham, repaired to the mouth of the Kennobec, to lay the 
foundation of a colony, but were compelled to abandon the scheme. A second 
body of settlers established themselves at the mouth of the Piscatoqua, under 
a patent granted to Gorges and Mason, for a tract called Laconia, where they 
founded Portsmouth and Dover. Mason, who had been associated with 
Gorges in this scheme, obtained a grant of the territory of New Hampshire, a 
tract discovered by Martin Pring, but his affairs fell into disorder, and he soon 
after died. Gorges obtained a new charter for the incorporation of all his 
grants under the name of Maine, drew up an elaborate scheme for the govern- 
ment of a territory as yet little better than a wilderness, and sent out his kins- 
man, Thomas Gorges, with numerous subordinates, to administer it. A 
Scotchman, Sir William Alexander, had also obtained from James I. the ter- 
ritory of Acadie, already granted by Henry lY. of France to his subjects, and 
'changed its name to Nova Scotia. These confused and conflicting charters 
and claims originated much private litigation and international hostility. 

The Plymouth company had endeavoured to assert their exclusive right to the 
fisheries off their coasts, and to levy a tax upon the numerous fishing vessels 
that frequented them. They even appointed one West, as " Admiral of New 
England," with authority to assert their claims ; but this was found to be im- 
possible, Virginia refused to submit, and the whole line of coast was soon 
studded with little fishing stations, the nurseries of hardy seamen, and the 
origin of a most lucrative commerce. 

The material and intellectual progress of the colony, in spite of all its religious 
dissensions, had, owing to the energetic character of the New England settlers, 
been steady and rapid. Trade continued to increase, vessels were built, water 
and wind mills were set up ; the towns and villages began to assume a settled 
appearance. Although intercourse between the settlements, divided by large 
intervals of forest, was chiefly carried on by coasting. No plantation on the 
shores of America had made, as it was universally conceded, so unexampled a 
progress within so short a period, or gave promise of such a brilliant career 
of future greatness. 

Such was the flourishing state of the New England colonies about the time 
of the breaking out of the English Eevolution. 



MARYLAND GRANTED TO LORD BALTIMORE. [1621-32. 



CHAPTER VII. 



COLONIZATION OF MARYLAND BY LORD BALTIMORE. — ITS ADVANTAGES AND PROGRESS. — DISPUTE 
■WITH CLAYBORNE. — ESTABLISHMENT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION. 



While Virginia was compelled to pass through various struggles before at- 
taining her liberties, and Massachusetts strenuously contended against the 
liberty of private judgment, another colony was founded, of which representa- 
tive government and religious toleration were fundamental principles ; and, 
singularly enough, under the auspices of a member of that Churcli which had 
itself first set the example of persecution for conscience' sake. The Roman 
Catholics in England, from being the oppressors, had of late become the op- 
pressed, under the combined operation of public prejudice and of Episcopalian 
and Puritanical rancour. Sir George Calvert, a native of Yorkshire, a scholar 
and traveller, so popular in his native county, by far the largest in England, 
as to be chosen as its representative in parliament, and so great a favourite at 
court as to have become one of the secretaries of state, had become a convert 
to the proscribed faith. With honourable candour he avowed his opinions, 
and tendered the resignation of his office. Far, however, from losing the 
influence he had obtained, he was loaded with fresh favours, and soon after 
created an Irish peer, by the title of Lord Baltimore. He had been one of 
the original associates of the Virginia company, and had tried an experimental 
colony of his own upon the island of Newfoundland, which, after having twice 
visited, he at length resolved to abandon. He then turned his attention to 
Virginia, where he met with little encouragement to engage in a settlement, 
the oath of allegiance, expressly framed so as that no Catholic could con- 
scientiously subscribe it, being expressly and offensively tendered for his adop- 
tion. He thus became desirous of obtaining a settlement to which the Ca- 
tholics might repair unmolested, and on his return to England had little dif- 
ficulty in obtaining from Charles I. a grant of a considerable tract on the river 
Potomac, which, in compliment to the queen, Henrietta Maria, he denomin- 
ated Maryland. Baltimore was a man of clear and comprehensive mind, of 
high and generous character ; he appreciated the necessity of a popular go- 
vernment, as well as of its independence of the despotism of the crown ; and 
thus the charter which gave to him, and to his heirs, the absolute proprietor- 
ship in the soil, together with the power of making necessary laws, was coupled 
with the condition that nothing should be enacted without the advice, con- 
sent, and approbation of the freemen of the province, or their representatives 
convoked in general assembly, and nothing enacted but what was in spirit, if 



1632-35.] PEACEFUL ESTABLISHMENT OF THE COLONY. 89 

not in letter, consonant to the laws of England. It was also the first instance 
in which the local proprietary was exempted from the control of the crown, 
and from the power of parliamentary taxation. Sir George Calvert died before 
the patent had been arranged, which was, however, confirmed to his son, Cecil 
Calvert, who appointed his natural brother, Leonard Calvert, to the command 
of the company destined to found a colony under auspices so peculiarly fa- 
vourable. They embarked on board the Ark and the Dove, in number about 
two hundred — the great body of the settlers being Roman Catholics, many of 
them ranking among the gentry. After a circuitous voyage by way of the West 
Indies, where they spent the winter, they arrived on the shores of Virginia, 
where, notwithstanding the jealousy of the inhabitants at so close an infringe- 
ment upon their own territory and upon the commercial advantages derived 
from the possession of the Chesapeake, the new settlers were courteously 
received by the gorernor, Harvey. Shortly after Calvert entered the Poto- 
mac, and upon a spot, partly occupied, and about to be abandoned by the 
Indians, and ceded by them next year in full to the emigrants, he built the 
little village of St. Mary's. Every colony planted on the American soil had 
passed through a season of hardship and calamity ; the foundation of Maryland 
was the first exception. The favourable provisions of the charter, the liberal 
spirit of the institutions, and the readiness with which the Indians conceded 
to the settlers a footing on the soil, the unanimity of design, the ready sup]3ly 
of all their wants by the neighbouring colonists through the liberal outlay of 
the proprietor, all concurred to promote the peaceful establishment and rapid 
progress of the new colony. 

Its harmony was, however, disturbed, by a dispute arising out of some prior 
claims to an exclusive trade upon a portion of the territory included in the 
patent. William Clayborne, an enterprising member of the council of Vir- 
ginia, after surveying the dififerent branches of the Chesapeake, satisfied with 
the advantages of the region for opening an advantageous traffic, had ob- 
tained a grant from Charles L, authorizing the formation of a trading company, 
and had built an establishment at Kent Island, in the heart of the territory now 
made over to Lord Baltimore, of whose patent he had endeavoured to invalidate 
the legality as being opposed to his own prior claims, although no right to the 
territory had been assigned to him with his trading patent. His appeal was set 
aside, and, esteeming himself to be aggrieved by this decision, he not only en- 
deavoured to prevent the progress of the colony by prejudicing the Indians 
against it, but actually fitted out a vessel to resist or capture the boats of the 
new settlers. After a bloody skirmish Clayborne's men were defeated, and his 
trading station seized, while he himself was obliged to fly into Virginia, where 
the justice of his claims was universally recognised. The first colonial as- 
sembly of Maryland having assembled, passed an act of attainder against him, 
and required that he should be given up to them for trial by the government 
of Virginia. But the strong feeling in his favour existing in the latter colony 
determined Harvey, the governor, to evade this demand by sending him to 
England for trial, together with the witnesses against him. 



90 RELIGIOUS TOLERATION IN MARYLAND. [1645-49. 

The tendency to self-government which seems to have sprung up in the 
breasts of the English colonists simultaneously with the first crop raised by 
them from the soil, appeared in the proceedings of the first council convened 
in Maryland. Popular as was Lord Baltimore with the colonists, and liberal 
his provisions in their favour, they watched with jealousy the slightest tend- 
ency to encroachment on his part. In this spirit they rejected, by virtue of 
the power vested in them, a body of laws sent over by him for their accept- 
ance, and insisted on being allowed to take the initiative in legislation. With 
the next assembly came the establishment of representative government. 
The " rights and Liberties of Holy Church " were especially protected, but no 
provisions were made to enforce conformity to her dogmas. This was alike 
rej)ugnant to the spirit of the founder of the colony, and indeed impossible 
in the state of public opinion against the Catholics. Whether from ne- 
cessity or policy, or more honourable reasons, practical toleration Avas at all 
events established in Maryland, which thus became an asylum for those ex- 
posed to persecution in the other colonies as well as in the parent country. 
Experience further demonstrated the inestimable blessing, almost then un- 
known, of a free religious toleration, and it was decisively confirmed by statute 
ten years afterwards. Liberty of opinion was not indeed, nor could it well have 
been, as absolute as in our own times. A general profession of belief in Tri- 
nitarian Christianity was required, and so-called "blasphemy" severely pun- 
ished ; but with this limitation the terms of the statute forbade any interference 
in, or even reproachful censure of, the private opinions or modes of worship, 
already sufficiently numerous and eccentric, established among the citizens. 
** Whereas," it states, " the enforcing of the conscience in matters of religion 
hath frequently fallen out to be of dangerous consequence in' those common- 
wealths where it hath been practised, and for the more quiet and peaceable 
government of this province, no persons whatsoever, professing to believe in 
Jesus Christ, shall from henceforth be in any ways troubled, molested, or dis- 
countenanced, for, or in respect of, his or her religion, nor in the free exercise 
thereof; nor any way compelled to the belief or exercise of any religion against 
his or her consent, so that they be not unfaithful to the lord proprietary, or 
molest or conspire against the civil government established." 



1G30-34] ARCHBISHOP LA UD AND MASSACHUSETTS. 91 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THE XEW . ENGLAND STATES DURING THE PARLIAMENT.— PERSECUTIONS OF THE BAPTISTS AND 
QUAKERS IN MASSACHUSETTS.— ELLIOT AND THE INDIANS. — GENERAL PROGRESS OF THE 
NORTHERN COLONIES. 

The effects of tlie great struggle now going on in England between Charles I. 
and his parliament were not unfelt even on the distant shores of New Eng- 
land. The settlement of the Plymouth Pilgrims had occurred with little or 
no notice, and the increasing interest of affairs at home had so occupied 
attention, that Massachusetts was allowed to grow up, and assume a distinct 
and independent policy, before any interference was threatened by the minis- 
ters. It had been the wise endeavour of the founders of the infant State to 
avoid, as far as possible, attracting the attention of those in power, and to veil 
over their great design, the founding of an independent theocracy, by the 
external profession of loyalty to the monarch as well as obedience to the 
Church. 

But in spite of this cautious policy, their designs had leaked out, and their 
proceedings had begun to attract the serious attention of the ministers of 
Charles. Those Episcopalians who had been expelled from Salem by the 
rashness and fanaticism of Endicott were loud in their complaints. The 
council for New England was summoned to answer for the alleged misconduct 
of the settlers under their charter. But not only did this body repudiate all 
responsibility on account of the Massachusetts freemen, but laboured still 
further for their inculpation. They charged them with surreptitiously procur- 
ing a grant of lands previously conveyed to others, for which, without the 
concurrence of the council, they had obtained a private charter. The accus- 
ation, however, which more especially attracted the jealous eye of Archbishop 
Laud was, that they had virtually " made themselves a free people," and 
" framed unto themselves new laws in matters of religion, and ecclesiastical 
forms, departure from which they had punished by the severest penalties." 
These unwarrantable encroachments the council declared itself unable to 
restrain or punish, and therefore referred the whole matter to the gracious in- 
terference of his Majesty and the privy council. 

No invitation could be more welcome to the bigoted Archbishop. He 
had received private information of the secret designs of the Massachusetts 
planters, he had witnessed with uneasiness the rapid stream of emigration 
which was caused by his arbitrary measures, and had found that many of 
" the best " were going over to strengthen the hands of the detested Puritans. 
An embargo was laid upon vessels bound to New England; the letters 

N 2 



92 RE VOL UTION IN ENGL A ND A ND DEA TH OF LAUD. [1 G35. 

patent of the company were imperiously demanded, and a special commission 
was appointed, giving to himself and his creatures full power to introduce 
into the New England colonies the same atrocious system by which he was 
vainly labouring at home to crush the cause of civil and religious liberty. 

The Plymouth company having surrendered their charter to the king, a 
*' quo warranto " was issued against the Massachusetts colonists. The freemen 
were outlawed, and the resignation of their patent demanded, under the 
threat of his Majesty's assuming the management of the colony. An evasive 
remonstrance was sent over by the council, in the hope of averting the threat- 
ened attack upon their liberties, against which they made meanwhile every 
preparation for a determined resistance. The fort was ordered to be garrisoned, 
and other defences hastily prepared. But the distance from home, and, above 
all, the increasing troubles in England, which now engrossed the whole atten- 
tion of the ministry, prevented their carrying out the dreaded project. 

The acts in the great drama of the revolution now succeeded each other with 
a rapidity that kept all men in a state of breathless suspense and excitement. 
It was no longer needful to lay an embargo upon emigrants to Massachusetts, 
many of its citizens repairing home to take a part in the agitating but glo- 
rious scene. The Scotch had entered England, the Long Parliament had 
been called, arbitrary power had been swept away, and a complete change had 
taken place in the system of legislation. Strafford was impeached, condemned, 
and executed. Laud soon after followed him to the scaffold; the Church, 
whose authority he had laboixred by every species of cruel persecution to 
enforce, was dissolved and proscribed, and Puritanism, which it was the 
great object of his life to extirpate, was triumphantly established in power. 

Meanwhile the colony was left undisturbed to the development of her 
internal resources, and to the framing of a " Body of Liberties." Of these 
the rough draft, ha\ang been prepared by the council, was sent round and 
submitted, first to the local magistrates and elders, then to the freemen at 
large for due consideration and improvement ; and having been thus decided 
upon, they were at length formally adopted. After three years' trial they 
were to be revised, and finally established. These laws, about a hundred in 
number, are characteristic and curious. The supreme power was still to re- 
side in the hands «Tf the church members alone ; universal suffrage was not 
conceded, but every citizen was allowed to take a certain share in the 
business of any public meeting. Some degree of liberty was granted to 
private churches and assemblies of different Christians, but the power of veto 
was still vested in the supreme council, who might arbitrarily put down any 
proceedings which they deemxcd heterodox and dangerous, and punish or 
expel their authors. Strangers and refugees professing the true Christian 
religion were to be received and sheltered. Bond-slavery, villanage, or cap- 
tivity, except in the case of Imcful captives taken in war, or any who should 
either sell themselves or he sold by others, were to be abolished. Injurious 
monopolies were not to be allowed. Idolatry, Avitchcraft, and blasphemy, or 
wilful disturbing of the established order of the state, were punishable with 



1635.] FHAMING of the "BODY OF LIBERTIES." 93 

death. All torture was prohibited, unless whipping, ear-cropping, and the 
pillory, which were retained as wholesome and necessary punishments, might 
be so considered. The liberties of women, children, and servants are defined 
in a more, benevolent spirit, in harmony with the milder institutes of the 
Mosaic law so constantly referred to by the framers of the document. 

The infant province of New Hampshire sought and obtained annexation, 
on equal terms, to its more powerful neighbour Massachusetts. Shortly after- 
wards, in 1643, the whole of the scattered settlements resolved upon uniting 
in one common confederation, under the name of the " United Colonies of 
New England." This union was suggested after the Pequod war, by the 
necessity of making common cause against the Indians, as well as against the 
encroachments of the Dutch in Connecticut, and of the French on the coast of 
Maine. It consisted of the colonies of New Plymouth, New Haven, Con- 
necticut, and Massachusetts. The preservation of "gospel truth" being a 
principal object of the confederacy, all the delegates were accordingly to be 
church members. Two of these were to be sent by each colony, annually, 
or oftener if necessary. They were to choose a president, and all questions 
were to be decided by six votes out of the eight. They were to meet alter- 
nately at Boston, Hartford, New Haven, and Plymouth. Each State was to 
retain its local rights of legislation, and no new plantation could be received 
without the approval of the others. No war was to be levied by any one of 
the colonies without the consent of the rest, and although the expenses of a 
war were to be defrayed out of a common fund, yet should any colony have 
brought a war upon itself or the rest by its own fault, it was to make satis- 
faction to the adverse party, and to bear in addition the entire expense of the 
war. Runaway servants were to be restored, and legal judgments in one 
colony to be held valid in the rest. Such were the principal points of this 
famous compact, the idea of which was borrowed from the provinces of Hol- 
land, and suggested perhaps in turn the great federation of the United States 
of America, in which some of its provisions were retained. Enacted Avith 
entire independence of the control of the mother country, it nevertheless sub- 
sisted until its abrt)gation by the arbitrary power of the last of the Stuarts. 

Armed as they were with an absolute power to restrain, although certainly 
not private belief in, yet at least open profession of, any creed differing from 
tlieir established standard, it was not long before the Massachusetts fathers 
were called upon to fence off their orthodoxy against a crowd of troublesome 
intruders. 

The carrying out to its ultimate results the principle of free private 
judgment continued to breed new forms of visionary speculation, and of doc- 
trinal subtleties, with a perilous unloosening of the ordinary principles of 
morals. Such was the Antinomianism of jNIrs. Hutchinson, and such, though 
in a minor degree, was the doctrine of the Anabaptists, so fearfully carried 
out by the fanatics of INIunster. 

This doctrine, against which peculiar prejudices might then well be enter- 
tained, although it has now moderated into a mere question of the time and 



94 SAMUEL GORTON BANISHED FROM PL YMO UTH. [1643. 

mode of baptism, now appeared for the first time in New England. The 
restless Williams had embraced it, and became the founder of the first Baptist 
church in America, and the foundations of Newport were laid by a body of 
these sectarians. Their views gained ground, the orthodox churches Avere 
troubled, and numerous complaints were made against the innovators, who 
had renounced all communion with their brethren, and propagated their pe- 
culiar dogmas with indefatigable zeal. Clark and Holmes, two of the leaders, 
were seized on the sabbath, as they were in the act of preaching, and forcibly 
carried off to attend the more orthodox services of a neighbouring church. 
The moment the minister began to pray, Clark put on his hat, for which 
insult he was allowed the alternative of fine or flagellation. Anxious, pos- 
sibly, to obtain sympathy as a martyr, he fearlessly chose the latter punish- 
ment, and thirty lashes were accordingly inflicted upon him. The activity 
and obstinacy of the new sectaries provoked the severest measures of preven- 
tion and punishment ; a sentence of expatriation was pronounced against all 
who should openly assert their obnoxious tenets, and many were accordingly 
sent forth from the colony. 

Samuel Gorton was a religious enthusiast of a different vein, one who enter- 
tained certain reflned and mystical views of the doctrines of Scripture peculiar 
to himself; to whom there was "no heaven but in the heart of the good man, 
no hell but in the conscience of the wicked;" who looked upon the doctrinal 
formulas and church ordinances of the orthodox Puritans as human inventions, 
alike unauthorized and mischievous, and regarded their assumed authority as 
an intolerable yoke of bondage, which he was careless and daring enough to 
defy or ridicule. The " soul tyranny " of the Massachusetts theocracy seems 
indeed, as a natural result, invariably to have stimulated to opposition and de- 
fiance. Gorton, expelled from Plymouth, retired to the neighbourhood of 
Providence, where he had become involved in further dispute with some of the 
inhabitants, who invited the interference of Massachusetts. He was cited to ap- 
pear before the magistrates of Boston, but he preferred to retire still farther 
from their reach, and having purchased some land of Miantonomoh, the Nar- 
ragansett chief and the ally of the colonists in the Pequod war, commenced 
an independent settlement. The rightfulness of this grant of Miantonomoh's 
was denied by two inferior Sachems ; their appeal was confirmed by the 
Boston magistrates, to whom they now made over the disputed territory. 
Gorton was summoned to appear before the court at Boston ; he replied with 
a counter-summons of defiance, denied the legality or impartiality of their 
proceedings, and offered to submit the case to the arbitration of the other 
colonists. A strong party was sent out to seize him and his adherents, and 
being taken and conveyed to Boston, he was shortly after brought before 
the court on the charge of being a blasphemous subverter of " true religion 
and civil government." Hb vainly endeavoured to explain away the obnoxious 
impvitations, and being convicted, was by the greater part of the magistrates 
sentenced to death, although this, at the instance of the deputies, was commvxted 
to imprisonment and hard labour, which was also inflicted upon his adherents 



1643.] MURDER OF MIANTONOMOH BY UN GAS. 95 

who had been taken with him. Not even the fear of death couhl, however, 
restrain their zeal, and they were accordingly sent ou'i, of the colony. Gorton 
soon after returned to England, where he found, for a while, a suitable scope 
for his doctrinal phantasies amidst the sectarian disputes of the time. 

Far different was the fate of Miantonomoh. Between himself and Uncas, 
chief of the INIohcgans, the firm ally of the English, and who had placed him- 
self under their protection, a bitter hatred subsisted ', and mutual hostilities 
had broken out, as it is said, in consequence of an aggression on the part 
of Uncas. Miantonomoh was taken prisoner, the intercession of Gorton saved 
him from immediate death, but Uncas carried his captive to Hartford, and 
referred his fate to the decision of the commissioners for the United Colonies. 
The Narragansett chief was, on many grounds, obnoxious to the English ; he 
was looked upon as a " turbulent spirit, whom it would be dangerous to set 
at liberty ; " moreover he was the friend of Gorton and of Williams, through 
whose agency indeed he had been prevented from joining in the conspiracy 
of the Pequods. Yet the consciences of the council could not be satisfied 
without at least some decent pretext for his legal condemnation ; and he was 
charged with the murder of a servant belonging to the Mohegan chief. It 
was decided that he should die, but not by the sentence of the council; 
and they accordingly ordered him to be delivered over to Uncas, who was 
permitted to convey him beyond the bounds of the colony, and deal with 
him summarily, after his own fashion, but without the infliction of torture. 
The exulting Uncas hastened to fulfil this welcome command, and the instant 
he had passed the border, drove his hatchet into the skull of the unfortunate 
Miantonomoh, and even glutted his savage appetite of revenge by drinking 
the blood and tasting the flesh of his victim. 

During the progress of the civil war in England, it may be well imagined, 
that the sympathies of the people of Massachusetts were in favour of the 
" Godly Parliament," although they wisely determined not to involve them- 
selves in the dispute. There Avere not wanting, however, among them, some 
"malignant spirits," who were disposed to stir in favour of the king, English 
vessels, belonging to the rival factions, having come to action even in Boston 
Bay ; but a strict neutrality was now enforced. When the Parliament had 
fully established its authority, friendly invitations were sent over to the min- 
isters of New England to attend the conference at Westminster, and to sue 
for additional privileges ; yet the wise and wary heads of the INIassachusetts 
fathers evaded a proposal which, while it might tend to breed dangerous in- 
novations, could add nothing to the virtual independence which they al- 
ready enjoyed. Satisfied that they had built up the best of all possible com- 
monwealths, they had determined to defend their newly-established theocracy 
against the troublesome interference of either king or parliament. This latter 
body had indeed appointed a board of control for the colonies, of which the 
Earl of Warwick was governor, and Yane, Pym, and Cromwell members. 
This board was endowed with very ample general powers, and might appoint 
at pleasure governors, counsellors, and officers. No interference with the 



96 ' TRIAL AND ACQUITTAL OF GOV. WINTHROP. [1G45. 

established order of things was as yet attempted, a friendly feeling subsisted 
between the parties, and the exports and imports of Massachusetts were ex- 
empted from taxation. 

Not only had the council to watch jealously against external interference, 
but also to repress a dangerous fermentation within its own boundaries. The 
strict exclusiveness and rigid regimen of the self-constituted government ap- 
peared, to a large body of those without, to be as unjust as it was unpalatable. 
The harshness considered necessary to repress the vagaries of different sect- 
aries had not only tended to increase their acrimony, but appeared to many, 
both at home and abroad, in the light of a cruel persecution. There was also a 
dangerous party, who were aiming at the establishment of Presbyterianism, 
and the re-modelling of the state by the authority of parliament. A spirit of 
determined opposition against the authority of the council was awakened. 
The people rejected fresh officers recommended by authority, and re-nominated 
the old, merely to show their independence. At length the dispute arose to a 
head. "VVinthrop, the governor, in the exercise of a legal right, had set aside 
a military election at Hingham. Complaint was eagerly made, and Winthrop 
stood upon his defence before the general court, which was divided in opinion, 
the minority being in favour of the people, the majority siding with the go- 
vernor. After a stormy discussion, Winthrop was declared to be honourably 
acquitted, when he ascended the bench and delivered a speech, in which the 
peculiar views entertained by the leaders of Massachusetts, and the limitations 
imposed by them on popular liberty, are so well expounded, that we cannot 
do better than quote it. 

" The questions," said Mr. "Winthrop, " that have troubled the country 
have been about the authority of the magistracy and the liberty of the people. 
It is you who have called us unto this office ; but being thus called, we have our 
authority from God. I entreat you to consider, that when you choose magis- 
trates, you take them from among yourselves, men subject unto like passions 
with yourselves. If you see our infirmities, reflect on your own, and you will 
not be so severe ccnsurers of ours. The covenant between us and you, is the 
oath you have exacted from us, which is to this i^urpose, ' That we shall go- 
vern you and judge your causes according to God's laws, and the particular 
statutes of the land, according to our best skill ! As for our skill, you must run 
the hazard of it ; and if there be an error only therein, and not in the will, it 
becomes you to bear it. Nor would I have you mistake in the point of your 
own liberty. There is a liberty of a corrupt nature, which is affiscted both by 
men and beasts, to do what they list. This liberty is inconsistent with au- 
thority ; impatient of all restraint, 'tis the grand enemy of truth and peace, 
and all the ordinances of God are bent against it. But there is a civil, a moral, 
a federal liberty, which is the proper end and object of authority : it is a 
liberty for that only which is just and good. For this liberty you are to stand 
with the hazard of your very lives ; and whatsoever crosses it is not authority, 
but a distemper thereof. This liberty is maintained in a Avay of subjection to 
authority ; and the authority set over you will, in all administrations for your 



1646.] PARLIAMENT DECLARES ITS AUTHORITY. 97 

good, be quietly submitted unto by all such as have a disposition to shake off 
the yoke, and lose their true liberty by their murmuring at the honour and 
power of authority." 

The defeat of the popular party seemed almost their victory, since they had 
indirectly obtained the concession, that the council for life should be deprived 
of its military authority, and they soon put forth fresh demands. A petition, 
got up by dissentients of different sects and parties, was presented, headed 
by Child, a young physician, recently arrived from England, where the doc- 
trines of toleration were making rapid progress. Complaining of the exclusion 
of all but church members from a share in the government, they prayed that 
civil liberty and freedom might be granted to all " truly English," and that 
members of other English or Scotch churches might be admitted to the same 
privileges as those of New England. They charged the government with 
being " ill compacted," and threatened, in default of redress, to appeal to the 
government at home. A similar movement had taken place at Plymouth, 
whence the governor, Winslow, wrote to Win thro j), " admiring how sweet this 
carrion," this indiscriminate toleration of all sects, alike clamorous for pre- 
eminence, " relished in the palate of most of the deputies." It was thrown 
out, however, as " being that which Avould eat out all power of godliness." 
Child was summoned to appear before the council, where he endeavoured to 
argue the matter, but was speedily silenced and fined, whereupon he pre- 
pared to sail with a new petition for parliamentary interference in favour of 
the non-freemen, but being seized before he could embark, was amerced in 
still heavier penalties. 

Another incident had occurred which added to the gravity of the crisis. Gor- 
ton had made interest in England in favour of his claim to the land of which he 
had been dispossessed by the council, and now sent over his agent, armed with 
a letter of safe-conduct from the parliament, together with an order from them 
to allow him j)resent possession of the disputed territory, until their final judg- 
ment could be pronounced. Such an assumption of authority on the j^art of 
the parliament struck directly at the root of the independence of Massachu- 
setts. The council, with closed doors, anxiously investigated the nature of 
their relation to the parent state ; and it was agreed upon after much discus- 
sion, that allegiance, rather nominal indeed than real, was to be paid to Eng- 
land, but that the right of regulating their internal affairs belonged exclu- 
sively to the council. In the critical position of affairs, however, and menaced 
both at home and abroad, they decided on adopting the policy of conciliation, 
and Winslow, who had influential friends in London, was deputed to repair 
thither to obtain the countenance of parliament by amicable means. 

In the same vessel with the agent thus sent over to defend the cause of the 
council, sailed another who carried out a copy of the obnoxious petition which 
laboured to subvert their authority. This personage was William Vassall, a mem- 
ber of the Plymouth colony, one whose restless liberalism would have involved 
him in trouble, but that his brother happened to be an influential member of 
parliament, on which ground he was therefore reluctantly allowed to embark. 



98 PROGRESS OF THE STATE OF RHODE ISLAND. [1647. 

But in his parting sermon to tlie passengers, the zealous Cotton had declared, 
tliat " if any should carry writings or complaints against the people of God in 
that country to England, it would be as Jonas in the ship," a hint which his 
jiious shipmates were not slow in understanding. A storm arose, the trunk 
containing the obnoxious papers was thrown overboard, but Vassall had 
secretly preserved copies. On their arrival both parties commenced their 
counter-intrigue. The apparently noble, though specious appeal of the council, 
together with the private interest of Winslow with Vane and other influential 
members, carried the day. " We have not admitted your authority," said the 
remonstrance, " being assured they cannot stand with the liberty and power 
granted us by our charter, and would be subversive of all government." While 
they humbly admit the superior wisdom of j)arliament, they modestly plead 
the great distance from the colony and ignorance of its local requirements, 
as tending to destroy the force and vitiate the suitableness of their legislation. 
" Confirm our liberties," they conclude, " discountenance our enemies, the 
disturbers of our peace under pretence of our injustice." This appeal, 
backed by powerful influence, proved an overmatch for the machinations of 
Vassall and Child. The parliament refused to reverse the decisions of the 
council, and generously extended to them " the utmost freedom and latitude 
that could, in any respect, be duly claimed by them." Meanwhile the 
dread of parliamentary interference had produced a strong reaction in the 
colony against the liberals, and thus the Massachusetts council, after a long 
and anxious struggle with their opponents, found themselves established still 
firmer in power than before. 

The foundation of " Providence, " and the settlement of Aquiday or Rhode 
Island by Roger Williams, has been already described. Thither, since the 
expulsion of Mrs. Hutchinson from Boston, had continued to repair a large 
number of those who were discontented vidth the " soul tyranny " established 
in Massachusetts. Antinomians and Anabaptists, fanatics and latitudinarians 
of every shade of belief, had there found a shelter from persecution, and a 
field for the free exercise of their conflicting creeds. Universal suffrage and 
equal right being the established code, the little state soon became notorious 
for the tumultuous character of its popular assemblies, for the collision of 
opinions and interests, of whims and vagaries, elements which by agitation 
neutralized one another, and formed an harmonious unity by the balance of 
forces. " Amor vincit omnia" was the happy and well-chosen motto of their 
little state. Over this restless democracy presided Roger Williams, venerated 
for the uprightness and simplicity of his daily walk. As years stole on him, 
and he beheld the evil arising from sectarian animosity, his zeal for fantastic 
innovation was sobered down, and from a restless propagator of novel tenets 
he became a humble and charitable " seeker " after truth. His antipathy to 
persecution, however, and his advocacy of an impartial toleration, increased 
only with his age. The arbitrary encroachments of the Massachusetts the- 
ocracy, their increasing territorial aggrandizement, and the apprehension lest 
they might ultimately claim jurisdiction over the other colonies, determined 



'i 



1650.] THE CHARTER OF RHODE ISLAND. 99 

him to repair to England, and to obtain a charter of incorporation. He was 
entirely successful in his object. His publications on the Indian manners and 
language attracted deserved admiration. He attacked the principle of re- 
ligious despotism in his tract entitled " Bloody Tenet of Persecution for the 
Cause of Conscience," afterwards replied to by Cotton. Vane, who, though 
he had befriended the Massachusetts council, was opposed to a system of 
exclusiveness under which he had himself been stigmatized, strongly sym- 
pathized with Williams, and through his influence the benevolent founder of 
Ehode Island returned to America with the desired charter. As he ap- 
proached the spot where in his flight from persecution he had laid the first 
foundations of a refuge for the oppressed, the river was covered with a fleet 
of canoes, the whole population poured forth to meet their benefactor, " ele- 
vated and transported out of himself" by the success of his efforts, and the 
grateful acclamations of his fellow-citizens. A commission for governing 
the islands, granted to one Coddrington, by the council of state in England, 
which threatened to interfere with the patent, occasioned a second voyage, to 
obtain the powerful intercession of Vane, who obtained the withdrawal of the 
obno:ivious instrument, and the confirmation of the charter of Rhode Island. 
It was not until after some further troubles, however, that the government 
of that State was firmly and peacefully established. Dissensions arose among 
its citizens, while Massachusetts and Plymouth asserted their claims to differ- 
ent portions of the territory, and even meditated the annulling of their charter. 

The affairs of the last few years, and especially the recent agitation of 
Child and Vassall, had threatened the dissolution of the Massachusetts 
theocracy. Assailed on all sides by sectarian innovation, menaced by parlia- 
mentary interference, they had successfully weathered the storm ; but there 
were only two courses now open to them, either the relaxation of the bonds 
imposed by their rule, or their increased stringency. Before the recent agi- 
tation they had contemplated the former alternative — the oijposite course was 
now resolved upon. As even among their own body there were not a few im- 
bued with Antinomian or Anabaptist tendencies, it was determined to leave to 
them no latitude for schism, but to define the rule of faith, to draw up a formal 
standard of confession, and to subject the churches, hitherto more than half in- 
dependent, to the superintendence of a self-constituted majority, whose dictum 
should be without appeal. This scheme was not carried out without some oppo- 
sition. Boston at first refused to choose delegates. At length however, after 
much discussion, and " a clear discovery and refutation of such errors, objec- 
tions, and scruples, as had been raised about it by some young heads," a confes- 
sion of faith was agreed upon, conforming in all doctrinal points to the Cal- 
vinistic articles of the Westminster Assembly of Divines. This standard of 
orthodoxy resolved upon, it was decided, to insure unity of sentiment and action, 
that no deputy should be sent to the general court who did not subscribe it. 
The first shoots of heterodoxy were vigilantly watched for and extirpated, and 
recusant ministers were compelled to be silent or to resign their seats. 

Latitudinarianism, even more than heterodoxy, exposed its professors to the 

o 2 

Lorc 



100 INTOLERANCE OF THE PURITANS OF BOSTON. [1656. 

severest penalties, and any who should venture openly to deny that the Bible 
was the word of God, were punishable not only with fine, flogging, imprison- 
ment, or banishment, but even with death. The Koman Catholics had de- 
manded obedience to the traditions of the Church and asserted its authority, as 
the sole expounder of that Bible which it withheld from the people. Repudi- 
ating these claims, the different sects of the Reformers made the Bible itself 
their ride of faith, but each party claimed the right to decide upon its meaning, 
while it aimed at imposing its own convictions as the rule for others. Thus 
the right of private judgment was in truth as much derided by the Puritans 
of New England, as by their Romanist or Anglican persecutors. 

" New presbyter was but old priest writ large." 

They came over to establish a distinctive polity, which they believed to be 
founded on the word of God, and they would have deemed it a base derelic- 
tion of duty and principle to open the door to sectarians of every shade. 
This is well seen in the epitaph of the stern old Dudley, the governor : — 

" Let men of God in courts and churches watch 

O'er such as do a toleration hatch, 

Lest that ill egg bring forth a cockatrice 

To poison all with heresy and vice ; 

If men be left, and otherwise combine. 

My epitaph's, I died no libertine." 

It was precisely when they were congratulating themselves on the vigour 
and firmness of their administration, and their victory over heresy and schism, 
that they were exposed to the most formidable irruption which they had yet 
experienced, called upon to carry out their inexorable principles to their 
ultimate consequences, and, in defiance of their humaner feelings, to inflict the 
last punishment of their harsh and mistaken code upon the fanatic enthusiasts 
who rushed upon and gloried in their fate. 

. This last onslaught was that of the Quakers, a body which had recently 
sprung up in England, the latest and the most remarkable form which sec- 
tarian development had yet assumed. The tenets and practices of its adherents 
overstepped the nice and perilous line of demarcation that separate the sublime 
from the ridiculous. As its fundamental principle was that of an inward reve- 
lation of God to man, an indwelling of the Divine Spirit in the human soul, 
and as by this unerring voice, and not by the creeds and formularies of man, 
were the Holy Scriptures to be interpreted to every individual believer, 
the interference of the magistrate with the consciences of men was expressly 
denounced as antichristian and intolerable. While Cromwell had declared 
that "he that prays best, and preaches best, will fight best," a doctrine 
religiously carried out in Massachusetts, the Quakers denied the lawfulness 
even of defensive warfare, and refused to bear arms when commanded by the 
civil magistrate. Their " yea was yea, and their nay was nay," and believing 
that "whatsoever was more than this cometh of evil," they insisted upon 
observing the letter of Scripture, which commands the believer to " swear not 



1G56.] OPINIONS AND MANNERS OF THE QUAKERS. 101 

at all/' and refused to take oaths when required by human authority. Titles 
they abhorred as opposite to the simplicity of the faith, which commands us 
to " call no man master " — declined even to take off their hats before the ma- 
gistrate, and thee'd and friended alike a Cromwell or a Charles II. Believ- 
ing that every man and woman was at liberty to preach as moved by the 
Spirit alone, they rejected either printed formularies, or established modes of 
worship, as cramping the free spirit of devotion, and regarded a settled and 
salaried priesthood as false prophets and as hireling wolves, against whom it 
was their duty to bear testimony. In the renunciation of the world and all its 
vanities, they outran even the most rigid Puritans ; they abhorred even the 
most innocent pleasures — they adopted a peculiar dress, divested of every trace 
of shapeliness and adornment — compassed their words and manners with ridi- 
culous formality ; their hair was lank, their visage sunken, and their eyes turned 
upwards, as if in invocation of spiritual succour. But they were above all dis- 
tinguished by the uncompromising boldness of their denunciations against the 
tyranny of rulers in high places, whether temporal or spiritual. Filled, as 
they believed, with the Divine afflatus, they feared not the face of man ; and 
if they refused the common titles of respect to established authority, upon 
those that withstood them they poured forth a complete vocabulary of abuse. 
Their adversaries were " dogs, lizards, scorpions, tinkers, firebrands, and Ju- 
dases." Nothing could surpass their zeal for the propagation of their tenets. 
" The apostles of the Nev/ Light, ploughmen and milkmaids," says Bancroft, 
" becoming itinerant preachers, sounded the alarm through the world, and ap- 
pealed to the consciences of Puritans and Cavaliers, of the Pope and the Grand 
Turk, of the negro and the savage. Their apostles made their way to Rome and 
Jerusalem, to New England and Egypt, and some were even moved to go to- 
wards China and Japan, and in search of the unknown realms of Prester John." 

Boston had already obtained in England the reputation of being the head- 
quarters of intolerance, and thither, of course, some of the more zealous were 
not long in finding their way. Their evil report had preceded them, and they 
are" described as " a cursed set of heretics lately risen in the world." Their 
principles, which struck at the very root of the theocracy, and the fierce en- 
thusiasm with which they propagated them, were far more to be dreaded than 
the errors of Antinomians or Anabaptists. The first that came over in July, 
1656, were two women, Mary Fisher and Ann Austin. Popular superstition 
invested them with Satanic attributes, and their persons were examined for 
the marks of witchcraft. They were shortly afterwards imprisoned and sent 
away, on which Mary Fisher repaired to Constantinople, where the Turks, 
who venerate the insane as being under the especial protection of God, 
listened with respect to her unintelligible ravings. 

Heavy fines were now enacted against any who should introduce Quakers 
into the colony, or circulate the tracts in which they disseminated their 
opinions. Those who defended the opinions of the sectaries or gave them 
harbour were severely fined, and, on persisting, banished. Whipping was 
the mildest punishment awarded to a Quaker, and this disciphne was inflicted 



102 EXECUTION OF R 0BIN80N AND STEPHENSON. [1659. 

upon males and females indiscriminately. On the first conviction they were to 
lose one ear^ on a second the other one, and, although the law proscribed tor- 
ture, on the third were to have their tongues bored through with a hot iron — 
extreme penalties, which were indeed rather intended to frighten away those 
who persisted in returning over again, in the face of the severest prohibitions. 
But their zeal amounted almost to insanity; they insulted and defied the 
magistrates — disturbed the public worship with contemj)tuous clamour — nay, 
instances afterwards occurred in which women, to testify after prophetic 
fashion against the spiritual nakedness of the land, and regarding the violence 
thus done to their natural modesty as '* a cross " which it behoved them to 
bear, displayed themselves without a particle of clothing in the public streets. 
The obstinacy of the Quakers was not to be repressed by any ordinary se- 
verities. Many of them had repaired to Rhode Island, where the free toleration 
aiforded to all sects indiscriminately, allowed them to propagate their tenets 
undisturbed. These, however, few appeared inclined to embrace, and above 
all — they were not persecuted. Their zeal was of that sort that loves to be 
sharpened by opposition, and rushes upon martyrdom with intense delight. 
To Boston therefore they were attracted, like the moth to the candle, by a 
sort of fatal fascination. It was war to the knife between ecclesiastical bigotry 
and insane fanaticism. The Puritans, to do them justice, sought to decline 
the conflict, but it was forced upon them. They did not desire to injure the 
Quakers, but they were determined to maintain their principles. Hitherto all 
had been in vain, fines, whippings, and imprisonments, and now, by a decree 
of the council, as a last resource, though not without the strenuous resistance 
of a portion of the deputies, banishment was enforced on pain of death. 
But that indomitable sect gloried in the opportunity of suffering martyrdom. 
Robinson, Stephenson, and Mary Dyer, persisting in braving the penalty 
denounced against them, were tried and condemned. The governor, '\Vin- 
throp, earnestly sought to prevent their execution, and Colonel Temple offered 
to carry them away, and, if they returned, fetch them off a second time. There 
was a struggle among the council, many regarding them as mere lunatics, 
against whom it would be as foolish as cruel to proceed to extremities ; but 
the majority prevailed, and Stephenson and Robinson were brought to the 
scaffold. " I die for Christ," said Robinson. " We suffer not as evil-doers, but 
for conscience' sake," said Stephenson. Mary Dyer, with the rope round her 
r.eck, after witnessing the execution of her two companions, exclaimed, " Let 
me suffer as my brethren, unless you will annul your wicked law." At 
the intercession of her son, she was almost forced from the scaffold, on con- 
dition of leaving the colony in eight and forty hours, but the spirit of the 
wretched woman was excited almost to insanity by inward enthusiasm and 
the iiorrible scenes she had witnessed, and after the trial she addressed from 
her prison an energetic remonstrance against the cruelty of the council. 
•' Woe is me for you ! ye are disobedient and deceived," she urged to the 
magistrates who had condemned her. " You ■will not repent that you were 
kept from shedding blood, though it was by a woman." With a coui'age that 



1659.] MARY DYER EXECUTED ON BOSTON COMMON 103 

would bs sublime were it not tinctured with insanity, forced by an irresistible 
impulse, she returned to defy the tyrants of " the bloody town," and to seal 
her testimony against them with her life. She was taken and hanged upon 
Boston Common. 

These fearful scenes excited a growing spirit of discontent. Disgust at the 
folly and frenzy of these enthusiasts was forgotten in the commiseration excited 
by their sufferings. The magistrates, before the last execution, had been com- 
pelled to put forth a formal apology for their proceedings. " Although," they 
urge, " the justice of our proceedings against William Robinson, Marmaduke 
Stephenson, and Mary Dyer, supported by the authority of this court, the laws 
of the country, and the law of God, may rather persuade us to expect encourage- 
ment and commendation from all prudent and pious men than convince us of 
any necessity to apologize for the same ; yet, forasmuch as men of Aveaker parts, 
out of pity and commiseration, (a commendable and Christian virtue, yet 
easily abused, and susceptible of sinister and dangerous impressions,) for 
want of full information, may be less satisfied, and men of perverser principles 
may take occasion hereby to calumniate us and render us bloody persecutors, — 
to satisfy the one and stop the mouths of the otlier, we thought it requisite to 
declare. That, about three years since, divers persons, professing themselves 
Quakers, (of whose pernicious opinions and practices we had received intelli- 
gence from good hands, both from Barbadoes and England,) arrived at Bos- 
ton, whose persons were only secured to be sent away by the first opportunity, 
without censure or punishment. Although their professed tenets, turbulent 
and contemptuous behaviour to authority, would have justified a severer 
animadversion, yet the prudence of this court was exercised only to make 
provision to secure the peace and order here established against their attempts, 
whose design (we were well assured of by our own experience, as well as by 
the example of their predecessors in Munster) was to undermine and ruin the 
same. And accordingly, a law was made and published, prohibiting all 
masters of ships to bring any Quakers into this jurisdiction, and themselves 
from coming in, on penalty of the house of correction until they should be 
sent away. Notwithstanding which, by a back door, they found entrance, 
and the penalty inflicted upon themselves, proving insufficient to restrain 
their impudent and insolent intrusions, was increased by the loss of the ears of 
those that offended the second time ; which also being too weak a defence 
against their impetuous fanatic fury, necessitated us to endeavour our se- 
curity; and upon serious consideration, after the former experiment, by their 
incessant assaults, a law was made, that such persons should be banished on 
pain of death, according to the example of England in their provision against 
Jesuits, which sentence being regularly pronounced at the last court of assist- 
ants against the parties above-named, and they either returning or continuing 
presumptuously in this jurisdiction after the time limited, were apprehended, 
and owning themselves to be the persons banished, were sentenced by the 
court to death, according to the law aforesaid, which hath been executed upon 
two of them. Mary Dyer, upon the petition of her son, and the mercy and 



104 CHRISTISOWS DEFIANCE OF THE JUDGES. [1659. 

clemency of this court, had liberty to depart within two days, which she hath 
accepted of. The consideration of our gradual proceedings will vindicate us 
from the clamorous accusations of severity ; our own just and necessary de- 
fence calling upon us (other means failing) to offer the point which these 
persons have violently and wilfully rushed upon, and thereby hecovae felones 
de se, which might have been prevented, and the sovereign law, salus populi, 
been preserved. Our former proceedings, as Avell as the sparing of Mary 
Dyer upon an inconsiderable intercession, will manifestly evince we desire 
their lives, absent, rather than their deaths, j)resent." But the magistrates 
having now dipped their hands in blood, and boldly maintained the justice 
of so doing, consistency required that they should persist in the same 
fatal course. William Leddra was put to trial and sentenced, but was offered 
pardon on condition of departing beyond the bounds of the colony. He re- 
fused, and was executed; but he was the last victim sacrificed. For the 
desperate expedient, which had brought so much odium upon the magistrates, 
was all in vain, and they were terrified, moreover, by the threat of an appeal to 
England. During the trial of Leddra, Wenlock Christison, who had also been 
banished, returned, entered the court, and being put on his defence, hurled 
defiance into the teeth of his judges. " By what law," he demanded, " will ye 
put me to death?" "We have alaw," it was answered, " and by it you are to 
die." " So said the Jews to Christ. But who empowered you to make that 
law?" "We have a patent, and we make our own laws." "Can you make 
laws repugnant to those of England?" "No." "Then you are gone be- 
yond your bounds. Your heart is as rotten towards the king as towards 
God. I demand to be tried by the laws of England, and there is no law 
there to hang Quakers." " The English banish Jesuits on pain of death ; 
and with equal justice we may banish Quakers." The jury returned a ver- 
dict of guilty. Wenlock replied, " I deny all guilt ; my conscience is clear 
before God." The magistrates were divided in pronouncing sentence ; the 
vote was put a second time, and there appeared a majority for the doom of 
death. " What do you gain," cried Christison, " by taking Quakers' lives ? 
For the last man that ye put to death, here are five come in his room. If ye 
have power to take my life, God can raise up ten of his servants in my 
stead." 

The people, too, gave unequivocal signs of sympathy with the sufierers. The 
scandal would go forth to all Christendom. The magistrates felt that they 
had gone too far, and we may reasonably believe that they were glad to re- 
trace their steps. Accordingly they discharged such Quakers as were in con- 
finement, and contented themselves with ordering all who returned to be 
whipjjed beyond the bounds of their jurisdiction, over and over again, until 
they desisted from their obstinate infatuation. 

Whilst a religious corporation were thus earnestly striving to maintain an 
exclusive orthodoxy, a design for the conversion of the Indians was originated 
by the benevolence of a single individual. John Elliot, the pastor of the 
church at Eoxbury near Boston, being animated with zeal for the temporal and 



1GG5.] JOHN ELLIOT PREACHES TO THE INDIANS. 105 

spiritual improvement of the savages, undertook the task of learning their 
language, into which he was at length enabled to translate the Bible. The 
objects of his labours were looked upon but coldly by the Puritans. "With 
their constant reference of every thing to the canons and circumstances of the 
Old Testament, they beheld in the Indians the counterpart of the idolatrous 
heathen, whose inheritance was to be given into the hands of the children of 
Israel, while, according to their harsh theological opinions, these children of un- 
regenerated nature were reprobate and accursed of God. They were also de- 
spised for their helplessness and ignorance, secretly hated, and feared, perhaps, 
as the original tenants of the soil, to which they might yet arise and assert their 
claim. Compassion however was, by many, largely mingled with this bitter and 
contemj)tuous estimate, since God might have chosen some of these despised 
ones, in the exercise of his inscrutable sovereignty, as coheirs of salvation with 
their superior brethren. This feeling was predominant in the mind of the bene- 
volent Elliot. He began his labours in 1645, among the tribes in the neigh- 
bourhood of Massachusetts Bay. His simplicity and kindness of heart won 
greatly upon the affections of the Indians, and their regard for the pastor was 
extended to the system which he propounded, even, perhaps, when it was 
but partially apprehended by them. When he assembled his Indian congre- 
gation, after getting one of the magistrates to offer up in English a prayer for 
Divine help, he would preach in a simple style to the Indians, encourage them 
to propose questions on what they had heard, and catechise the children, re- 
warding their diligence with presents of apple and cake. His tact was dis- 
played in simplifying to their obtuse apprehensions the knotty doctrines of the 
Westminster Assembly, until the children were at length able to answer, if 
they could not understand, all the questions it contained, in their own language. 
Although the Puritans, it is true, obtained far less influence over the minds 
of the Indians than the Roman Catholics, who sought for external conformity 
rather than inward conviction, who addressed the senses rather than the in- 
tellect; under the influence of the "Apostle of the Indians," the number 
of converts multiplied so rapidly as to excite attention, and Winslow, then 
in London, as political agent, formed a society in that country for the propa- 
gation of the Gospel amongst the Indians, which received a charter from the 
government, and appears to have been warmly supported by the pious in Eng- 
land. A considerable sum was remitted, churches were founded, and several 
native teachers received salaries, while other Puritan ministers, following the 
example of Elliot, also acquired the language of the Indians, and extended 
their labours on every side. Anxious to withdraw his converts from their un- 
settled mode of life, Elliot endeavoured to engage them in the pursuits of re- 
gular industry, and drew up for them a popular form of government. Good 
books were translated for their benefit, and a sort of Indian college estab- 
lished. No great or lasting impression was effected by these benevolent 
labours. The Indian Sachems and their priests looked with an evil eye upon 
the proceedings, and the habits of savage life were not to be easily eradicated. 
Between the pharisaic Puritan and the despised Indian there was also a great 



106 CROMWELL'S COLONIAL POLICY. [1650-60. 

gulf, which the former would not, and the latter could not pass. But if the 
project was in the end all but abortive, this should not detract from the glory 
of the benevolent Elliot, who is worthy to take his i^lace by the side of Las 
Casas and of Schwartz, and especially of Oberlin and of Neff, M'ho sought to 
raise the objects of their laborious sympathy from the depths of temporal, as 
well as of spiritual destitution. " It is a remarkable feature," says Grahame, 
"in Elliot's long and arduous career, that the energy by which he was 
actuated never sustained the slightest abatement, but, on the contrary, evinced 
a steady and vigorous increase. As his bodily strength decayed, the energy 
of his being seemed to retreat into his soul, and at length, all his faculties (he 
said) seemed absorbed in holy love. Being asked, shortly before his de- 
parture, how he did, he replied, ' I have lost every thing ; my understanding 
leaves me, my memory fails me, my utterance fails me — but I thank God, my 
charity holds out still, I find that rather grows than fails.' " This admirable 
man died in 1690, full of years and honours. 

During the establishment of the commonwealth in England, the colony, 
untroubled by its interference, enjoyed a steady prosperity. The successes 
of CromAvell were regarded with enthusiasm, the prayers of the Puritans were 
offered up for him, and he received the warmest expressions of their regard. 
In return he took a deep interest in the well-being of their little state, to 
which, it is popularly believed, though not on adequate foundation, he had 
been at one time about to retire from persecution in England. With the vigour 
that characterized his foreign policy, the Protector had wrested Acadie from 
the French, and Jamaica from the Spaniards, and Winslow went out from Lon- 
don as one of the commissioners for the conquered '"ountries, but died soon 
after his arrival. Cromwell had already offered to the people of New Eng- 
land the lands confiscated in his recent war in Ireland ; he noAV desired that 
•a large body of them should settle in Jamaica, and plant the institutions and 
religion of England as a strong-hold in the midst of Catholics and Spaniards. 
Eew availed themselves of his proposal, the majority being too well satisfied 
with the blessings of their actual condition, to desire a removal to a more daz- 
zling but uncertain scene of enterprise. 

Whatsoever faults may be found with the exclusiveness and intolerance of 
the fathers of Massachusetts, it cannot be denied that under their administra- 
tion, firm even to sternness as it was, the colony had made far more rapid 
progress than any other in America. Industry was encouraged, nay, en- 
forced ; if any one would not work, neither could he eat ; mendicancy was a 
thing unknown, and thrift, self-denial, and enterprise soon distinguished 
the New Englander as much as his seriousness of deportment. The nature 
and climate of the country favoured the development of a hardy, self-re- 
Ijang character. Except in a few favoured spots, the soil was not rich, and 
required hard labour to subdue and render it productive. The fisheries off 
the coasts bred up a race of intrepid seamen, who were not long in extending 
the sphere of their enterprise to distant shores, the sea-ports grew rapidly, 
ship-building was soon extensively practised, and the Massachusetts mer- 



1G50-G0.] THE CITY OF BOSTON IN 1660. 107 

chantmcn visited Madeira and Spain. At first the inhabitants had been 
obliged to import corn for their sustenance, they now sent cargoes even to 
England. Almost all the trades had taken firm root in the land; saw-mills 
were established on the beautiful New England brooks, and a traffic in lumber 
and shoes, still characteristic staples, had been established. In 1639, the ma- 
nufacture of cloth was introduced, by a colony from Yorkshire, led by their 
pastor, Ezekiel Kogers ; and in 1643, iron-works were founded by a body of 
workmen brought over from England by the younger Winthrop. 

If we look to the progress of the towns, we find that the rude log-houses of 
the first settlers had been long replaced by a superior class of habitations. 
The beautiful villages with their frame-houses and verandahs, and groups 
of weeping elms, were even then admired. Boston, as the head-quarters of 
government and commerce, had in the course of twenty years surprisingly 
increased. Among a numerous body of other foreign vessels, the French, Por- 
tuguese, and Dutch were to be seen in its harbour. The base of the hilly 
peninsula on which it is built was of course the principal seat of traffic ; here 
thickly crowded buildings and wharves were " fairly set out with brick, tile, 
stone, and slate," and the continual enlargement of the " comely street, presaged 
some sumptuous city." " At the head of King Street," says a traveller of the 
period, " now State Street, was the old Town-house, built in 1660. It stood 
upon pillars, serving as an arcade for the merchants. The monthly courts 
were held in the .chambers above, and here the governor resided. The 
general style of the architecture, if we may judge from some houses near 
Faneuil Hall, bearing the date 1630, was the exact counterpart of that which 
formerly distinguished an English country town, with picturesque pointed 
gables, overhanging stories, huge chimneys, and projecting oriel windows. 
Some of the houses stood embowered in gardens and orchards." " South of 
the Town-house was," says John Josselyn, Gent., who visited the colonies 
in 1663, " a small but pleasant common." This was probably the scene of the 
execution of the Quakers, and here " the gallants, a little before sun-set, walk 
with their marmalet madams, as we do in Moorfields, till the nine o'clock hell 
rings them home to their respective habitations, when presently the constables 
walk the rounds to see good order kept, and to take up loose people." 

The regimen of the good fathers of the Commonwealth was indeed more than 
ordinarily severe. They had fled as much from the licence as from the persecu- 
tion of the Episcopalians, as much from " the Book of Sports " as from the prison 
or the pillory. On their emigration to New England, they had been above 
all things desirous to avoid the influx of " lewd fellows of the baser sort," 
before they could establish a model commonwealth, from which every in- 
dulgence that savoured of " the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the 
pride of life " should be sedulously excluded. What Macaulay says of the 
Puritans in general, will apply, with little exception, to the founders of Mas- 
sachusetts. " Morals and manners were subjected to a code resembling that of 
the synagogue, when the synagogue was in its worst state. The dress, the 
deportment, the language, the studies, the amusements of the rigid sect were 

P 2 



108 CUSTOMS OF THE PURITANS IN BOSTON. [1650-60. 

regulated on principles resembling those of the Pharisees, who, proud of their 
washed hands and broad phylacteries, taunted the Eedeemer as a sabbath- 
breaker and a wine-bibber. It was a sin to hang garlands on a Maypole, to 
fly a hawk, to hunt a stag, to play at chess, to drink afrieniVs health, to icear 
love-locks, (against which customs enactments were levied,) to put starch upon 
a ruff, to touch the virginals, to read the ' Fairy Queen.' The Puritan was 
at once known from other men by his gait, his garb, his lank hair, the sour 
solemnity of his face, the upturned white of his eyes, the nasal twang with 
which he spoke, and above all, by his peculiar dialect. He employed on 
every occasion the imagery and style of Scripture. Hebraisms violently in- 
troduced into the English language, and metaphors borrowed from the bold- 
est lyric poetry of a remote age and country, and applied to the common con- 
cerns of life, were the most striking peculiarities of this cant, which moved, 
not without cause, the derision both of prelatists and libertines." 

Such were the figures, and such was the phraseology which might have 
been seen and heard in Boston two centuries ago, in the meeting-house and 
the court of magistrates, in the public assembly and the private family, in the 
intercourse of business, or the labours of the field, on the deck of the mer- 
chantman, and in the ranks of the militia. But he must have been a bold man 
who should have ventured to smile at it. Beyond the pale of church member- 
ship there was indeed a " mixed multitude," who claimed and enjoyed a certain 
latitude. The attempt of the magistrates to introduce sumptuary regulations 
had been in vain, female vanity would break through the trammels imposed 
upon it ; " superfluous ribbons," and " strange new fashions," vexed the right- 
eous souls of the fathers of the theocracy, even * divers of the elders' wives," 
it seems, being " partners in this disorder." In spite, too, of all restric- 
tions, there were those, to quote the language of a traveller of the period, 
" who treated the fair sex with so much courtship and address, as if loving 
had been all their trade." But the Puritan legislators frowned upon every 
thing that tended to laxity of manners, they sternly watched over the morals of 
the community ; wisely considering prevention as better than cure, they coun- 
tenanced early unions ; and although courtship carried on without the per- 
mission of the girPs parents, or of " the next magistrate," was punishable with 
imprisonment, the magistrates might redress "wilful and unreasonable denial 
of timely marriage" on the part of parents. Adultery was a capital offence, 
and incontinence was punished with a severe discipline. Underbill, who, 
uniting, as he did, the gallantry of the soldier with his proverbial love of 
licence, and of " bravery of apparel," having been accused of a backsliding of 
this nature, was summoned into the presence of the magistrates; and then, 
" after sermon, in presence of the congregation, standing on a form, and in 
his worst clothes, without his band and in a dirty night cap, confessed the sin 
with which he had been charged ;" and " while his blubberings interrupted 
him," says "Winthrop, dolefully lamented the loss of his " assurance," which 
had been graciously vouchsafed while enjoying a pipe of tobacco. Such was 
the godly discipline under which succumbed even the martial spirits which 



1650-60.] CUSTOMS OF THE PURITANS IN BOSTON. 109 

had borne the brunt of many a desperate struggle against the fierce and wily 
aborigines. Failings like these, however, were by no means frequent among 
the pious " men of war " of Massachusetts. They believed " that he who ruleth 
his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city," and to the most fervid 
fanaticism they united the sternest self-control. The whole population were 
trained as militia, and formed twenty-six companies of foot and a regiment of 
horse, but the officers were all required to be " specially endued with faith." 
They were well armed and perfectly disciplined, and when " the Lord called 
them to war," a call they were always ready enough to obey, displayed the 
most enthusiastic courage. The forts, two in the town and suburbs, and one 
commanding the entrance of the harbour, were well supplied with artillery 
and carefully garrisoned. " The God of armies," exclaims the pious Johnson, 
" was over us for a refuge. Selah." 

The standard of comfort appears to have been unusually high. Those who 
had come over with nothing but their axe in their hand, were soon in posses- 
sion of comfortable dwellings and gardens, and many had saved considerable 
sums. " Good white and wheaten bread," says Johnson, " is no dainty, but 
every ordinary man hath his choice, if gay clothing and liquorish taste after 
sack, sugar, and plums lick not away his bread too fast. Flesh is now no rare 
food, beef, pork, and mutton being frequent in many houses; so that this poor 
wilderness hath not only equalized England in food, but goes beyond in some 
places :" an assertion fully borne out by Macaulay, who tells us that in 
England, at this period, fresh meat was not commonly in use even in the 
houses of the country squires, and unknown among the peasantry. 

In one particular, and one only, the Puritans seem to have been less rigid 
than their descendants. They had brought over from Old England the taste 
for beer, the want of which was often felt as a privation. But they were 
now getting accustomed to more generous liquors, the wines of Spain and 
Madeira were cheap and abundant, and were found wholesome in counter- 
acting the cold fogs and cutting winds of the climate. In the use of these 
" creature comforts " they were satisfied with observing 

" The rule of not too much, by temperance taught." 

The doctrine of " teetotalism " was unknown among them. 

The fathers of the New England commonwealth were sincerely anxious 
for the promotion of sound learning. Many of them had enjoyed a university 
education in England, and were men of considerable acquirements. Their 
literary taste was of course in accordance with their religious views. We find 
Josselyn carrying with him from England to " Mr. Cotton, the teacher of 
Boston Church," the same who defended the cause of Massachusetts intoler- 
ance against the attacks of Roger Williams, " the translation of several Psalms 
in English metre for his approbation, as a present from Mr. Francis Quarles, 
the poet." In Boston, now justly considered the Athens of America, and 
the seat of the most enlarged and liberal mental culture, the abode of poets, 
historians, philosophers, and painters, controversial divinity was at that time 



110 ESTABLISHMENT OF FREE SCHO OLS IX MASS [1650-GO. 

the only literature cultivated. The Quakers had declared that " philosophy 
and logic are of the devil," while other sectarians gloried in their emancipation 
from the restraints of human learning. To check this presumptuous ignorance, 
from the ebullitions of which they had suffered so much, the council deter- 
mined on every where establishing free-schools and grammar-schools, from 
which some youths were to be sent to the university, where their minds 
would of course receive like wax the impress of that system of instruction 
most wisely provided for their reception. A college had been established for 
this species of training at Newtown, a suburb of Boston, which John Harvard, 
a worthy minister, who died shortly after his arrival, endowed with his 
library, and half his estate. It was now erected into a college bearing the 
name of its benefactor, and the village where it stood received the name of 
Cambridge, after that English university where many of the JNIassachusetts 
ministers had received their education. Other individuals also contributed 
large donations, and some assistance was received from the other colonies, 
to which were added the proceeds of the ferry between Boston and Charles- 
town. To Glover, another Nonconformist minister, who died on his passage 
from England, is due the credit of causing the introduction of the first printing 
press in the colony, if not in all America. He contributed largely him- 
self, and obtained the assistance of others in England and Holland. This 
press was first set up and worked at Cambridge by Stephen Day. The 
" Freemen's Oath," against which Eoger Williams protested, was its first 
production, the next an " Almanack for New England, by Mr. William Pierce, 
mariner," and the next a metrical version of the Psalms for the use of the 
New England congregations. 



CHAPTER IX. 



THE ABORIGINAL INDIANS. — THEIE PHYSICAL AND MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS, CTTSTOMS, 
MANNERS, ANTIQUITIES, AND LANGUAGES. 



Having now traced the gradual occupation of the whole coast of North 
America by the colonies of the white man, before whom the aborigines, 
hitherto subsisting almost undisturbed, were henceforth destined to melt so 
rapidly away ; it may be well to pause a while in the course of our narrative, 
and briefly survey their original condition, before we pursue any further the 
melancholy chronicle of their cruel sufferings, their fierce revenges, their 
bootless, although often heroic, struggles against an inevitable fate. The story 



1660.] APPEARANCE OF THE INDIANS. Ill 

of the Indians is the poetiy of North America, and the lingerinc^ traces of 
their footsteps affect the traveller with a peculiar interest. There is some- 
thing moiu'nful in this fading away of a feeble race before one more powerful 
and gifted. Of the tribes that roamed at will over the forest-covered con- 
tinent, some are wholly extinct ; others are cast forth beyond the boundaries 
or subsist uneasily upon the outskirts of civilization, receding farther and far- 
ther into the wilderness from before the face of the white man, with the 
feeling of despondency so beautifully embodied by the poet — 

" They waste us — ay, like April snow 
In the warm noon, we shrink away ; 
And fast they follow, as we go 
Towards the setting day ; — 
Till they shall fill the land, and we 
Are driven into the western sea." 

In surveying the physical and mental organization of the tribes extending 
over such an immense expanse of country, its remarkable uniformity first at- 
tracts our notice. The skin of the North American Indians is of a reddish 
brown, slightly varying in shade, according to the locality ; the hair black, 
lank, and straight, with little or no beard ; the cheek-bones high, the jaw-bone 
prominent, and the forehead narrow and sloping. Their figure, untrammeled 
in every movement, is lithe, agile, and often graceful, but they are inferior in 
muscular strength to the European. Their intellectual faculties are also more 
limited, and their moral sensibilities less lively. They are characterized by 
an inflexibility of organization, which appears to be almost incapable of re- 
ceiving foreign ideas, or amalgamating with more civilized nations — a people, 
in short, that may be broken, but cannot be bent ; and this peculiar organiza- 
tion, together with the state of nature in which they were placed, determined 
the character of their domestic and social condition. 

The dwellings of the Indians were of the simplest and rudest character. 
On some pleasant spot by the banks of a river, or near a sweet spring, they 
raised their groups of wigwams, constructed of the bark of trees, and easily 
taken down and removed to another spot. The abodes of the chiefs were 
sometimes more spacious, and elaborately constructed, but of the same mate- 
rials. Their villages were sometimes surrounded by defensive palisades. 
Skins, taken in the chase, served them for repose. Though principally de- 
pendent upon the hunting and fishing, its uncertain supply had led them to 
cultivate around their dwellings some patches of Indian corn, but their exer- 
tions were desultory, and they were often exposed to the pinch of famine. 
Every family did every thing necessary within itself; and interchange of 
commodities was almost iinknown amonar them. 

The great characteristic of the savage is his unwillingness to submit to any 
curtailment of his freedom. Necessity and instinct dictated the institution 
of marriage, but its tie was but loosely held, and often capriciously broken. 
The condition of women was degraded and miserable , they were regarded as 
an inferior race. The pride of the savage, satisfied with his skill in the chase, 



nS OCCUPATIONS OF THE MEN AND WOMEN. [1G60. 

considered domestic drudgery as unworthy of him, and on the weaker sex 
the severe and continued toil of attending to all the necessities of the house- 
hold was exclusively devolved. 

The communities into which they were divided were very imperfectly or- 
ganized. Each savage conceded as little as possible of his personal liberty. 
There was no system of government, though common consent had con- 
secrated various usages as authoritative. The chiefs acquired and maintained 
their ascendency by superior valour, energy, and wisdom. They were, how- 
ever, sometimes hereditary, and the minor tribes were united into wider con- 
federacies under some general head. 

The life of the savage is necessarily filled up by long periods of listless in- 
dolence and mental vacuity, alternating with moments of wild and fierce ex- 
citement. War was the great passion, the only high and noble pursuit, the 
only avenue to distinction, in which the Indian found scope for the exercise of 
his faculties — for the most undaunted bravery, the keenest subtlety, and the 
most indefatigable perseverance. In small parties the warriors would follow 
upon the trail of an enemy for weeks through the tangled intricacies of the 
forest, hover about his village, pounce upon and scalp their victims, and effect 
their escape with these trophies of their skill and prowess to their own 
wigwams, where they were received with the distinction due to a successful 
"brave;" their feats were the theme of rude but impressive oratory, and, 
according to the number of similar achievements, was the meed of honour, 
and the consideration in which they were held. 

To inflict and to bear alike the severest torture, and to repress every ex- 
pression of emotion as unworthy of his dignity, was the point of honour in the 
Indian's code. 

" As monumental bronze unchanged his look, 

A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook ; 

Train'd from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier, 

The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook 

Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear — 

A stoic of the woods — a man without a tear." 

The captive warrior, after being paraded in triumph, tied to the stake, and 
tortured for hours with all the refinements of cruelty, would defy the utmost 
efforts of his enemies to shake his invincible fortitude, taunt them with the 
success of his former exploits, and shout forth his triumphant death-song in 
the extremity of his agonies. Revenge, finely called by the philosopher, " a 
sort of wild justice," was religion to the savage, and, until full atonement had 
been made for the blood of his kindred, he deemed that a solemn duty re- 
mained yet unfulfilled. 

The intervals of his more exciting pursuits the Indian filled up in the de- 
coration of his person with all the refinements of paint and feathers, with the 
manufacture of his arms — the club, and the bow and arrows, and of canoes 
of bark, so light, that they could easily be carried on the shoulder from 
stream to stream. His amusements were the war-dance and song, and athletic 
games, the narration of his exploits, and the listening to the oratory of the 



IGGO.] THE RELIGION OF THE INDIANS. 113 

chiefs. Bat, during long periods of his existence, he remained in a state 
of torpor, gazing listlessly upon the dim arcades of the forests, and the 
clouds that sailed over the tree-tops far above his head ; and this vacancy 
imprinted an habitual gravity and even melancholy upon his aspect and de- 
meanour. 

The undeveloped faculties of the savage, ignorant of the relations of things, 
cannot form the idea of a regular system of causation by one supreme and 
benevolent power ; but what reason is unable to demonstrate, is vaguely di- 
vined by instinct. The dread of evils to which his condition exposes him, 
the awe produced by the more striking phenomena of the elements, first rouse 
his attention towards the invisible powers of nature. Fear is his earliest re- 
ligion, and its rites, often cruel and bloody, are intended to propitiate the be- 
ings who can control his fate. But as he continues to ponder upon the phe- 
nomena that surround him, and the mysterious movements of his own mind, 
he forms some dim conception of a power which is seen not only in the whirl- 
wind and the earthquake, but stirs in the rustling leaf and the flowing stream, in 
the living creatures which people the shades of the forest, and in the passions 
and emotions of his own breast. This is their Great Spirit, or Manitou ; and 
believing that every thing and every place was thus pervaded, and rendered 
sacred, the Indians treated the bones of the animals slain by them with a certain 
reverence, and made offerings to the presiding genius of particular places. They 
believed that every man had his guardian spirit. They sought for amulets 
and charms, as a security against the displeasure of the unseen being. They 
put faith in the mysterious teachings of dreams, and in the supernatural powers 
of the Medicine Man — half enthusiast and half impostor, the occasional suc- 
cess of whose incantations and contrivances^ with some rude knowledge of 
healing, enabled him to obtain a powerful ascendency over their credulous 
and superstitious minds. 

The belief in immortality was distinct and consoling to the Indian. His 
paradise was coloured by his favo^^rite pursuits on earth. He believed that 
the spirit of the dejiarted warrior was to roam through a delightful country 
abounding in plenty of game, and to amuse himself with the exercise of the 
chase ; and as they were to begin their career anew, their weapons and gar- 
ments were buried with them, with food to sustain them on the long journey 
into the distant land. The mother woidd envelojje her dead infant in its 
gayest clothing, and lay its playthings by its side, that it might resume its 
amusements in that far region, its flight to which she followed with her tears ; 
and sometimes, on the decease of a distinguished Sachem, some of his de- 
pendants would embrace a voluntary death, in order to bear him company, 
and to render him accustomed homage in the world of spirits. 

The antiquities of the Indian tribes have acquired, within the last half cen- 
tury, an immense and increasing interest. The earlier historians of the con- 
tinent were ignorant or incredulous as to the existence of any such mementos 
of the past, although the chroniclers who followed in the wake of Cortez and 
other conquerors, had described them in the most glowing terms. At length. 



114 MAGNIFICENCE OF THEIR BUILDINGS. [1660. 

by the researches of Humboldt and other travellers in Mexico and Peru, 
especially of Stephens and Catherwood in Central America, it has been 
found, that those portions of the continent abound in the most magni- 
ficent remains. Immense pyramidal mounds crowned with gorgeous pa- 
laces, or sacrificial altars adorned with elaborate sculptures, tablets covered 
with hieroglyphic inscriptions, as yet undecipherable, generally rude, but 
sometimes elegant in idea and execution ; sculptures, and i^aintings, and 
ornaments, — are met with in increasing numbers among the depths of the 
tropical forests, the gorgeous vegetation of which invests them, as it were, 
with a funereal shroud, and embraces them in the death-grasp of final ob- 
literation. It is fortunate, that some records of these precious memorials 
are preserved to us by recent explorers. They attest the former existence 
of a race which had attained a fixed state of civilization, a considerable 
knowledge of the arts and sciences, with a religious system, of which terror 
appears to have been the great principle, human sacrifices forming its con- 
spicuous feature ; a state of things indeed in all respects identical with the 
condition of Mexico at the period of its invasion by Cortez, when some of 
the temples were doubtless destroyed, while others of more ancient date pro- 
bably were at that period already fallen into ruin. In North America, during 
the period of its first settlement, which was confined almost exclusively to the 
seaboard, no discoveries whatever were made ; but as the stream of emigra- 
tion, crossing the ridges of the AHeghanies, poured down upon the Missis- 
sippi and the Ohio, and the dense forests and boundless prairies of the west 
were gradually opened and explored, another and very interesting class of an- 
tiquities began to be disinterred from the oblivion of centuries. It was but 
slowly, indeed, as the forest fell beneath the axe of the back-woodman, that 
they came to light ; they were for a long time but partially uncovered, or 
so imperfectly explored, that, even until a very recent period, they were re- 
garded by many as being only peculiarities of geological formation, which 
credulous imagination had converted into fortresses, and temples, and sepul- 
chres. The recent researches of Squier and Davis, accompanied as they are 
by elaborate surveys and drawings, have left no further roe/m for scepticism, 
and have established, beyond dispute, the interesting fact, that the interior 
of the North American continent, as well as the southern, was once in- 
habited by an immense and settled population, who have left behind them 
almost innumerable memorials of their occupation. 

These remains extend almost continuously over the whole interior, from the 
great lakes on the north to the Gulf of Mexico on the south, and from the 
sources of the Alleghany in western New York, far above a thousand miles up 
the Missouri, and into Michigan, "Wisconsin, and Iowa. They are found in far 
greater numbers in the western than in the eastern portion of this immense 
district. They may be traced too along the seaboard from Texas to Florida, 
but are not met with any further along the north-eastern coast. They are 
generally planted in the rich valleys of the western rivers, or elevated above 
them on commanding natural terraces. In the neighbourhood of the upper 



16G0. ] R UIN8 OF RE MA RKABLE EA R TH- WORKS. 115 

Lakes they assume the singular form of gigantic rilievos of earthen walls, 
often covering several acres, tracing out upon the soil outlines of the 
figures of men, birds, beasts, and reptiles. Southward of these appear, 
on the banks of the Ohio and its tributaries, mounds and truncated terraces 
of immense extent, sustaining earthen enclosures and embankments extending 
for entire miles. Of these extraordinary earth- works many were evidently 
fortifications, exhibiting no small constructive skill, defended by numerous 
bastions, having covered ways, horn works, concentric walls, and lofty mounds 
intended as observatories, and numerous gateways giving access to the im- 
mense line of fortified enclosure, with graded-roadways to ascend from terrace 
to terrace. Of these defences there appears to have been a chain, extend- 
ing from the head of the Alleghany diagonally across central Ohio to the 
river Wabash. 

Not all, however, of these earth-works were intended as fortresses ; many are 
evidently designed for religious purposes. One of the most extraordinary of 
these is called the Great Serpent, on a projecting tongue of high land in 
Adams County, Ohio. The head of the reptile points toward the extremity, 
his form is traced out with all its convolutions, and its jaws are open as it were 
to swallow a large egg-shaped enclosure occupying the extreme point of the 
promontory. .Its entire length, if stretched out, would be a thousand feet. 
The serpent and globe was a symbol in Egypt, Greece, Assyria, and Mexico ; 
and those familiar with English antiquities will no doubt remember a similar 
and still more gigantic instance of a serpent, sacred enclosure, and mound 
on the downs of Avebury in "Wiltshire. Of the earth-works some are square, 
some perfectly circular, others of intricate and curious outline, while many 
appear to have something symbolical in their arrangements. It is necessary 
also to correct a popular mistake with regard to their materials, which, it has 
been affirmed, consist exclusively of earth, whereas both stone and unbaked 
brick have occasionally been made use of. The mounds scattered over the 
■western valleys and prairies are almost innumerable, and of infinitely various 
dimensions, one of the largest covering six acres of ground. These also ap- 
pear to have been appropriated to different purposes, some to sustain sacri- 
ficial altars or temples, others intended for sepulchres, containing skele- 
tons, with pottery and charcoal for consuming the bodies. A remarkable 
instance of the latter class is the great mound at Grave Creek, which was 
penetrated by a perpendicular shaft opening into two sepulchral chambers, 
containing several skeletons with pottery and other articles. Within these 
enclosures and mounds have been discovered numerous stone sculptures of 
the heads of men, or of human figures in crouching attitudes ; of the beaver, 
the wild cat, and the toad; of the swallow and other birds; of the heron 
strikiftg a fish, the last very beautifully executed ; and of the sea cow, an. 
animal peculiar to the tropical regions. Ornamented tablets have also been 
dug up, and in some places sculptures of men, eagles, and elks can be traced 
on the face of the rocks, with rude attempts to represent hunting scenes. 
There have also been found instruments of silver and copper, axes, drills, 

Q 2 



116 LANGUAGES OF THE DIFFERENT TRIBES. [16G0. 

and spear heads, stone discs, and instruments for games, with beads, shells, 
ornaments, and pipes, as well as decorated pottery. 

Respecting the whole of these monuments it may be remarked, that they 
are evidently far ruder than those in Mexico and Central America, to which 
as they approach in locality they appear to approximate in their character and 
arrangements ; and it is thus an interesting question whether we are to regard 
them as the original and more ancient works of a race who afterwards reached 
a higher degree of civilization farther to the south, or whether, on the con- 
trary, they present to us traces of a migration from the south towards the north. 
" It is not impossible," observes Squiers, " that the agriculture and civiliza- 
tion of Mexico, Central America, and Peru, may have originated on the banks 
of the Mississippi." Whatever may be the result of further researches, one 
thing is abundantly evident, that the great valley of that river and of its tri 
butaries was once occupied by a population who had advanced from the 
migratory state of hunting to the fixed condition of cultivators of the soil, 
that the j)opulation who raised these great defensive and sacred structures 
must have been dense and widely spread, in order to execute works for 
which prolonged and combined effort were so obviously necessary, and that 
their -customs, laws, and religion must have assumed a fixed and definite 
shape. 

The languages of the North American Indians, like their physical character- 
istics, are generally uniform, and may be reduced to a few general heads. The 
Algonquin was the most widely diffused throughout the northern portion of 
the States, and was that spoken by the Pokanokets, Narragansetts, and 
Pequods, by the tribes of Lenni Lenape on the Delaware, and those in Vir- 
ginia and on the Ohio. The Wyandot was the language of the Hurons, who 
dwelt in the vicinity of the Great Lakes, and of the Iroquois, who occujoied the 
southern borders of the St. Lawrence, and the interior of the State of New 
York, where they have left behind them the names of their several confeder- 
acies, the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas — powerful 
tribes, who having subjugated and extirpated many others, were destined 
to act a more conspicuous part in the intercolonial struggles than any other 
body of Indians, and to figure as the chief allies of the English. Advancing 
to the southward, Ave find that the Tu.scaroras in North Carolina, the Cherokees, 
occupying the southern district of the romantic Alleghanies, spoke a sejjarate 
language, as did also the Natchez, and the Uchees on the Lower Mississippi ; 
while the dialects of the rest of the tribes on this part of the great river and 
its borders, the Choctaws, the Chickasaws, the Creeks, the Appalachees, 
and the Yamassees, are grouped under the general title of the Mobilian. 
Other tribes formed a link between the country east of the Mississippi, and 
the great West, where the prevailing language is that of the powerful Sioux 
or Dahcotas. 

We shall not attempt to discuss at any length the mysterious question of 
the first peopling of America — whether this immense chain of antiquities, ex- 
tending, with few interruptions, from the northern to the southern extremity 



1G60.] POSSIBLE DESCENT OF THE RED RACE. 117 

of the vast continent^ were the works of a race who came from afar, or who grew 
lip ujDon the soil itself. Endless have been the theories on this question, the 
final solution of which must await the progress of ethnological science. Some 
have imagined that the existence of pyramids denoted an oriental origin, and 
that they could trace upon the monuments of Copan and Palenque indubita- 
ble marks of a Tyrian migration ; while others, finding certain remarkable 
analogies between the customs of the Red Race and those of the Jews, have sup- 
posed that the former people must be derived from the latter. It is indeed well 
observed by Bradford, that "the character of American civilization is not Avholly 
indigenous ; that its mutual diversities are no more than might naturally arise 
when nations of the same stock are separated, while its uniformities are great 
and striking, and exhibit, in common, an astonishing resemblance to many of 
the features of the most ancient types of civilization in the eastern hemisj)here. 
The monuments of these nations were temples and palaces; their temples 
were pyramids ; their traditions were interwoven with cosmogonical fables 
which still retained relics of primitive history ; and their religion was sub- 
lime and just in many of its original doctrines, though debased in their super- 
stitious abuse and corruption. In all this there is nothing modern, nothing 
recent ; these features are not strictly Hindoo, Egyptian, or Chinese, thouo-h 
they approximate the aboriginal civilization to that of each of these nations. 
The origin of this resemblance is to be traced back to the earliest ages, when 
these great nations first separated, and carried into Egypt, Hindoostan, China, 
and America, the same religion, arts, customs, and institutions, to be variously 
modified under the influence of diverse causes. The great diversity of Ame- 
rican languages, the few analogies they present to those of the old world ; the 
absence of the use of iron ; certain peculiarities in their astronomical systems ; 
and some of their own traditions, which have preserved the memory of the 
great events of ancient sacred history, and attribute the colonization of the 
continent to one of those tribes who were present at the dispersion of man- 
kind ; all tend to support this position. The Red Race, then, appears to be a 
frimitive branch of the human family ; to have existed in many portions of 
the globe, distinguished for early civilization ; and to have penetrated at a 
very ancient period into America. The American family does not appear to 
be derived from any nation now existing ; but it is assimilated by numerous 
analogies to the Etrurians, Egyptiaris, Mongols, Chinese, and Hindoos ; it is 
most closely related to the Malays and Polynesians ; and the conjecture pos- 
sessing perhaps the highest degree of probability, is that Avhich maintains its 
origin from Asia, through the Indian Archipelago." This theory, perhaps 
most generally received, is certainly not without weight ; but on the other 
hand, it may be argued with equal truth that the rude efibrts of all uncivilized 
nations must greatly resemble each other, that the same ideas spring up spon- 
taneously in the minds of men under the same circumstances and in the same 
stage of development ; and thus that no safe conclusion can be deduced from 
correspondences, which, however remarkable, may, after all, turn out to be 
entirely fortuitous. 



118 CL08E RESEMBLANCE OF DIFFERENT TRIBES. [1660. 

The evidence which has been adduced, that a higher state of civilization 
once existed in North America, naturally suggests the inquiry, whether we 
are to regard the Indians found on that continent by the Europeans, as de- 
scended from more cultivated ancestors, like those of Mexico and Central 
America from the builders of the pyramids and temples of Cholula and Pa- 
lenque. " The important question has not been solved," observes W. Van 
Humboldt, " whether that savage state, which even in America is found in va- 
rious gradations, is to be looked upon as the dawning of a society about to 
rise, or whether it is not the fading remains of one sinking amidst storms, 
overthrown and shattered by overwhelming catastrophes. To me the latter 
supposition appears nearer the truth than the former." The physical simi- 
larity of the tribes spread over the whole continent from north to south, the 
resemblances that may be traced in their religion, manners, customs, and 
monuments, certainly favour the conclusion, that they are but different 
branches of one great family, whose civilization, though not uninfluenced 
from abroad, is yet principally aboriginal, and who, having attained a cer- 
tain stage of development, have, from various disturbing causes, retrograded 
into the condition in which we find them at the present day. Tradition, 
however, also dimly points to struggles and revolutions among them, and 
ruder tribes from the hyperborean regions may, as it records, have pressed 
down upon those settled in the more fertile valleys of the south, and forced 
them to take refuge in Mexico, and thus the present North American Indians 
may be descended from nomad hordes, who, like the Goths and Vandals in 
Europe, succeeded, by brute strength and overwhelming numbers, in extir- 
pating the less hardy, but more gifted races, to whose skill and labour we are 
indebted for these relics of a lost civilization. 



CHAPTER X. 



PROGRESS OF NEW NETHERLANDS. — DISSOLUTION OF NEW SWEDEN. — DIFFICULTIES WITH CON 
NECTICUT. — CAPTURE OP NEW YORK BY THE ENGLISH. — RECAPTURE BY THE DUTCH, AND 
FINAL CESSION TO ENGLAND. 

After the death of Kieft, generally detested for his cruelty and caprice, 
the West India Company of Amsterdam appointed as his successor Peter 
Stuyvesant, governor of Cura9oa, who, disabled from a wound received at the 
siege of St. Martin's, had returned to the United Provinces. He was a ge- 
nuine soldier, somewhat high and arbitrary, and determined to maintain the 
supremacy of the Company against the encroachments of " the rabble ; " yet 
brave without any tincture of cruelty, and open, honest, and downright in 



i 1 



1650-54.] STUYVESANT MADE GOVERNOR. 119 

his dealings, both with the colonists and their adversaries. To his firmness 
and capacity the Company trusted for the settlement of the long-pending dis- 
putes with the people of New England, and for the repression of the rival 
emigrants from Sweden. The boundary question with Connecticut, the dis- 
covery of the river by the Dutch, their erection of the Fort of Good Hope, the 
encroachments of the New Englanders, and the disputes that had arisen in 
consequence, have been already described ; and these had now increased to 
such a pitch that it was feared lest the New Englanders, ten times as numerous 
as the Dutch settlers, might adopt a summary method of terminating the 
controversy. Soon after his arrival Stuyvesant was welcomed by a compli- 
mentary letter from the council of the United Colonies, but accompanied 
with a formidable enumeration of grievances, upon which he repaired to the 
fort of Good Hope in order to have a personal conference with the New 
England commissioners. The dispute was referred to arbitration, the issue 
proving entirely favourable to the people of Connecticut, who acquired the 
half of Long Island, and all the country running back from the Sound, to a 
line drawn parallel with, and only ten miles distant from, the Hudson. The 
Dutch were however to retain their trading fort of Good Hope. 

Fresh troubles were occasioned by the attempts of some settlers from New- 
Haven to establish a colony on the Delaware. To this, which he deemed an 
unjustifiable encroachment, Stuyvesant was determined not to submit — he de- 
tained the vessel, which had touched at Manhattan, and proceeded to occupy 
the ground by the erection of Fort Casimir, measures wliich with the break- 
ing out of the war between Cromwell and the Dutch, had nearly led to an 
enterprise from Massachusetts for the conquest of New Netherlands. A. 
fugitive Indian had endeavoured to provoke hostilities by a false statement 
of a pretended conspiracy between the Dutch and the neighbouring tribes, to 
cut ofi" the exposed settlers of Connecticut — a story in itself sufficiently im- 
probable, and of which Stuyvesant sent an indignant denial to the council 
of Massachusetts. Although the commissioners for the United Colonies 
had decided that there was no sufficient ground for war, the people of Con- 
necticut and New Haven, having solicited and obtained some assistance from 
Cromwell, t'esolved to proceed to hostilities on their own account ; but being 
delayed a^^ hile through the good offices of Roger Williams, the declaration 
of peace between the English and Dutch, which Avas made shortly afterwards, 
compelled them to break up the expedition. 

Opposed to a far superior force, Stuyvesant, though little disposed for sub- 
mission, felt that negociation was the only course he could venture to pursue 
with the New Englanders. But if the latter were far more numerous than the 
Dutch, the Dutch were, in their turn, far more numerous than the Swedes. 
With these intruders therefore Stuyvesant was prepared to deal in a manner 
more conformable with his soldier-like temper, and the imprudence of his ad- 
versaries soon afforded him a welcome opportunity. Jealous of the vicinity of 
Fort Casimir to their principal settlement of Christiana, Risings, the Swedish 
governor, partly by force and partly by stratagem, contrived to obtain posses- 



120 THE CITY OF NEW AMSTERDAM. [1054-60. 

sion of the Dutch stronghokl. In revenge for this outrage, Stuyvesant received 
the welcome order, twice renewed, to effect the reduction of the Swedish 
colonists. Gathering together a body of six hundred men, he proceeded to 
execute his commission ; the scattered settlers, after a brief resistance, were 
compelled to take the oath of allegiance to the Slates-General, being at the 
same time guaranteed the possession of their lands and property : and thus, 
after maintaining its footing for about seventeen years, came to an end the 
little colony of New Sweden, the members of which, always a mere handful, 
soon became incorporated with those who had conquered them. During the 
absence of the governor, the Indians had made an abortive attempt to sur- 
prise New Amsterdam. They mustered in sixty-four canoes, ravaged the 
unjjrotected neighbourhood, and created considerable alarm in the little town, 
but dispersed to their forests as soon as the Dutch soldiery appeared in sight. 

It is worthy of remark, that the chief cities and settlements of America re- 
tain to this day evident traces of the people by whom they were planted, and 
of the circumstances under which they grew up. New England, peopled 
exclusively by Puritans, is still remarkable for the deep moral sense and 
serious deportment of its citizens ; Virginia, founded by courtiers and ca- 
valiers, for the more open manners, the imjoulsive generosity, and fiery 
temper of its planters ; while New York was from the first a cosmopolitan 
city, the resort of strangers of every faith and from every clime — a commercial 
rendezvous for merchants ; and by these characteristics it is still peculiarly 
distinguished. Hither had repaired some of those AValdenses, who, expelled 
from their valleys in Piedmont by the cruelty of the Sardinian king, had first 
found a refuge in Holland and Germany, together with persecuted Protest- 
ants from France and different countries of Europe, Puritans and other sec- 
taries from New England, Jews, refugees, and distressed persons of every 
shade of belief, who were alike sheltered by the wise policy of the West India 
Company, and allowed the free exercise of their respective modes of worship. 
A considerable number of negro slaves were also imported by the special in- 
structions of the Company. 

Thus mixed were the elements of the future state, and free the toleration 
in religious matters. From the exercise of popular rights, the people were, 
however, zealously excluded by the policy of the Company. A body of 
settlers of such various origin, most of whom had lived contentedly under 
monarchical or aristocratical institutions, were not at first animated by the 
same restless desire for self-government which characterized emigrants of the 
purely English blood. But this spirit was not long in breaking forth, partly 
from that natural impulse which stirs in the breasts of those who have subdued 
the wilderness, and partly also from the contagious influence of the neigh- 
bouring states of New England. Unlike that colony. New Netherlands had 
not been founded by the voluntary compact of freemen, but Avas a commercial 
plantation made by a privileged company, and managed by them exclusively 
for their own interests. The power delegated by them to the governor was 
bestowed for this purpose, and exercised in this spirit. The settlers might 



1660-64] INVASION OF THE NEW ENGLANDER8. 121 

complain of, but they could not control, the arbitrary measures of Stuyvesant, 
who appointed to all subordinate offices, and levied taxes at his own discre- 
tion. When his proceedings were deemed rash or high-handed by the West 
India Company they checked him as they thought proper, whilst they urged 
him to pay no attention whatever to the impatient demands of the settlers for 
self-government, and in levying the taxes to have no regard to their consent. 
Thus urged and supported at home, Stuyvesant set his face as a flint against 
the tide of democratic encroachment. A convention of two delegates from 
every village met to deliberate upon the state of the colony, and in a pe- 
tition suggested and drawn up by a settler from New England, demanded the 
abrogation of arbitrary misrule, and asserted their own right of approving, at 
the least, the laws which were made for their own government. Stuyv^esant, 
however, was inflexible, and after some sarcastic allusions to the origin of the 
jDetition, and soldier-like sneers at the exercise of "rabble" sovereignty, pe- 
remptorily dissolved this self-constituted convention. This enforced obedi- 
ence was accompanied by a sullen discontent, which the New England settlers, 
who were both numerous and active, were not sIoav in inflaming. The people, 
too weak to resist, evinced a passive dissatisfaction with their institutions, 
murmurs and questionings of the authority of the Company were heard on all 
sides, and it soon became evident that they would ofler but a spiritless resist- 
ance to the menaced invasion of the New Englanders, which perhaps they 
secretly invoked, as bringing in its train the popular liberties after which they 
sighed. The position of Stuyvesant became from day to day more insecure, 
but he bore up bravely against his difficulties. The weak and divided con- 
dition of New Netherlands encouraged fresh demands and aggressions on the 
part of her more powerful neighbours. Massachusetts claimed the Upper 
Hudson ; the Connecticut settlers, regardless of the limits agreed ujion by the 
treaty, pushed nearer and nearer to New Amsterdam. The New England 
settlers on Long Island, though under Dutch jurisdiction, invited the pro- 
tection of Connecticut. In vain did Stuyvesant repair personally to Boston ; 
he met only with delays and evasions. In vain did he invoke the public 
spirit he had repressed, call together the assembly he had formerly dissolved ; 
it passively recommended him to apply to the States-General and the West 
India Company for that protection which they were unable to aflbrd. With 
as little success did the zealous old governor appeal to his employers at home, 
and, setting before them his perils and perplexities, entreat for succour before 
it should prove too late. Unable or unwilling to incur any further expense 
on behalf of the colony, they had left it to defend itself even against the Con- 
necticut settlers, and the rumours of an English plot to take possession of the 
province, in- a time of profound peace, were received by them with incredulous 
apathy. That design, however, so often meditated by the people of New Eng- 
land, was now to be carried out in earnest. So jn after the restoration of 
Charles II. the Duke of York, having purchased up some old claims, received 
from the king a grant of the country from the Connecticut to the Delaware, 
and a fleet of three armed vessels, having on board Sir Robert Nichols, Sir 



122 D UKE OF YORK TAKES NEW NETHERLANDS. [16G4. 

George Cartwright, and Sir Robert Carr, as commissioners, and a large body 
of soldiers, was sent to take possession of the country. Touching at Boston, 
where they vainly waited awhile for recruits, and taking on board Winthrop 
the governor of Connecticut, who had considerable influence among the Dutch, 
they quietly dropped anchor in the vicinity of New Amsterdam. Rumours 
of their design had indeed reached that city, but no effectual defence had 
been, or indeed could be, attempted by the Dutch. Stuyvesaiit endeavoured 
to awaken the spirit of the inhabitants to a gallant defence by recalling to them 
the recent heroic struggle of the fatherland against the Spaniards, but he met 
but with a feeble response. Determined at least to put a bold front upon the 
matter, he sent in concert with the deputies to request of the English com- 
mander the reason of his hostile appearance. Nichols replied by asserting the 
claims of England, and demanding an immediate surrender of New Amster- 
dam on condition that the lives, liberties, and property of the inhabitants 
should be respected. Stuyvesant retorted by a spirited protest, detailing the 
manner in which the Dutch had obtained a lawful possession of the country, 
affecting to doubt whether, " if his Majesty of Great Britain were well informed 
of such passages, he would not be too judicious to grant such an order " as that 
by which he was summoned, especially in a time of profound peace ; and 
reminding the commissioners that it was " a very considerable thing to affront 
so mighty a state as Holland, although it were not against an ally and con- 
federate." Neither argument nor threats produced, however, any effect upon 
the English commander, who refused to protract the negociation, and threat- 
ened an immediate attack upon the city. Grating as it was to the spirit of 
the old soldier to surrender without a struggle, he was compelled to submit to 
circumstances ; the majority of the inhabitants were unwilling to run all the 
risks of an assault to which they could not hope to offer any effectual oppo- 
sition, in defence of a government with which they were discontented, against 
another which many among them were secretly disposed to welcome. Like 
the ass in the fable, they had nothing to fear, and something perhaps to hope 
for, from a change of masters. It was in vain for Stuyvesant to contend ; the 
influence of Winthrop had been active among the New Englanders ; the com- 
missioners advocated a surrender, which was consented to by the majority, 
and quietly carried out on the succeeding days. The terms granted were 
liberal, and the inhabitants were satisfied, although Stuyvesant held out to 
the last, and did not ratify the articles until two days after they had been 
signed by the commissioners. 

The whole province, together with the city, now received the appellation 
of New York. In a few days. Fort Orange on the Hudson capitulated, and 
exchanged its name for Albany. A treaty was here concluded with the chiefs 
of the five nations, whose hostilities had occasioned so much distress to the 
Dutch. Sir Eobert Carr meanwhile entered the Delaware, and received the 
submission of the settlers; and thus by a claim asserted without a tittle of 
foundation, and enforced without the shedding of a single drop of blood, the 
whole of North America passed quietly into the possession of England. The 



1665-72.] ESTABLISHMENT OF NEW JERSEY. 123 

Dutch soon became as loyal as their English neighbours ; feAV of them re- 
turned to Holland, and even the stern old Stuyvesant himself, attached to 
the country, remained to end his career under the allegiance he had so 
stoutly tried to repudiate. 

Simultaneous with the English conquest of New Netherlands was the 
establishment of another State. The country between the Hudson and the 
Delaware had been conveyed by the Duke of York to Lord Berkeley and Sir 
George Gartaret. Sir George had been governor of the island of Jersey 
during the civil war, and had gallantly defended it for Charles I. ; and in 
compliment to him, the province received the name of New Jersey, This 
extensive tract was then but very thinly inhabited. The settlements of the 
Swedes upon the Delaware, and their expulsion thence by Stuyvesant, together 
with his frustration of the scheme of emigration from New Haven, have been 
already described. A few Quakers and Puritans had nevertheless been per- 
mitted to naturalize themselves on the banks of the Earitan ; extensive pur- 
chases had been made from the Indians ; and a few scattered hamlets and 
isolated farms appeared at wide intervals in the immense expanse of wilderness. 

It was the policy of the proprietaries to attract settlers for their thinly peo- 
pled territory by offering to them the most advantageous terms. Absolute 
freedom of worship, a colonial assembly, which had the sole power of taxa- 
tion, and participated in the legislative but not the executive government of 
the province, with a moderate quit-rent not to be collected till 1770, were the 
principal inducements. The proprietaries reserved the right of checking the 
local legislation and of appointing the officers of government. Messengers 
were despatched to New Haven, from whence a considerable emigration of the 
Puritans soon took place. The liberality of the institutions, the beauty of the 
climate, attracted many to the new State, the " Paradise " of those who delighted 
in an untrammeled and primitive form of society, because " it had no lawyers, 
or physicians, or parsons." It soon became evident that the settlers were im- 
patient even of the slightest restraints. Philip Carteret had been appointed go- 
vernor of the new province, to the great discontent of Nichols, who protested 
in vain against this encroachment upon his jurisdiction. Upon the attempt 
of the former, in 1670, to collect the quit-rents for the proprietaries, a general 
discontent, and at length an open insurrection, broke out. The lands had in 
most cases been purchased from the Indians by the actual tenants, and having 
satisfied this original claim, they repudiated the further demand of a quit- 
rent as unjustifiable. The assembly convened at Elizabeth-town deprived the 
governor of his functions, elected in his place the young James Carteret, a 
natural son of Sir George, who had studiously encouraged the agitation, whilst 
Philip was compelled to fly to England, to justify his conduct, and seek for a 
reinforcement of his authority. 

Although no advances towards a popular government of his newly-acquired 
State were made by the Duke of York, the passing of a code embodying many 
valuable privileges and customs derived from local experience, and adapted 
to the wants of the colonists, trial by jury being among them, was one of his 

R 2 



124 NEW YORK AGAIN, FOR A TIME, A DUTCH CITY. [1G73. 

earliest measures. But tliat democratic spirit which had led the inhabit- 
ants of the colony to rebel against the arbitrary government of Stuyvesant, 
and to welcome the English rule as promising a more liberal policy, dissatis- 
fied and disappointed with these concessions alone, vented itself in angry and 
bitter remonstrances against a system no less despotic than the former. The 
merchants were oppressed by fresh duties, which, to swell the coffers of the 
Duke of York, were levied upon their imports and exports. Thus at the 
moment when, war having been declared between England and Holland, a 
Dutch fleet suddenly appeared before the city, a general disaffection prevailed 
amongst the citizens, and Colonel Manning, who, in the absence of the go- 
vernor, Lovelace, held possession of the fort with a small body of English 
soldiers, was compelled to surrender without resistance. For awhile New 
York again became a Dutch city, and was under a Dutch governor ; but a 
peace concluded the foEowing year, by which it was agreed that all con- 
quests were to be mutually restored, it was again replaced in the hands of the 
English. 

On resuming his original possessions, and obtaining a fresh grant, which in- 
creased his territorial pretensions, and which empowered him " to govern the 
inhabitants by such ordinances as he and his assigns should establish," the 
Duke of York sent over INIajor Edmund Andros, to assume the office of go- 
vernor, to assert his proprietary rights, and consolidate his scattered territories 
under one uniform system of administration. With this view, one of the first 
proceedings of Andros was an expedition to Fort Saybrook, -svith a small force, 
in order to enforce the claim of the Duke to all such territory between the 
Hudson and the Connecticut, as had been settled by the citizens of the latter 
State. He was astonished at the sturdy resolution of the Connecticut men, 
■who refused even to listen to the reading of his commission, and without 
violence, but by a display of power which he was unable to resist, compelled 
him to return disconcerted to New York. Perhaps this first taste of tl*e spirit 
of the provincials over whom he was called upon to preside, together with 
the increasing dissatisfaction at taxes levied by irresponsible authority, and 
fresh demands for a system of self-government, may have led him to advise 
the Duke, his master, to grant to the people of New York a charter, similar 
to that enjoyed by the other American provinces. This boon, however, was 
not for the present conceded to them. 

Meanwhile, it is necessary to glance at the progress of affairs in New Jersey. 
The dissension that took place in that infant colony on the subject of the 
quit-rents, has been already described. Cartaret, the governor, had been 
forced by a mutinous assembly to retire to England, whence he shortly re- 
turned invested with fresh powers from the Duke of York. Soon after the 
recovery of the province from the Dutch, Berkeley, one of the proprietors, 
disposed of his share of New Jersey to a company of Quakers, who, exposed 
in England to the contempt and persecution of every party in the state, were 
desirous of obtaining a place of refuge in the distant West. A dispute be- 
tween the proprietors was settled by the arbitration of William Penn, who 



1075-83.] FREEDOM OF TRADE IN NEW JERSEY. 125 

now first appears in connexion -svitli tlie history of America, and not long after 
Cartaret consented to a formal partition of the province into two distinct sec- 
tions, called East and West Jersey. West New Jersey thus became a colony 
of Friends, liberty of conscience and democratic. equality were established by 
them ; sincere lovers of peace, they soon came to a friendly understanding 
with the Delaware Indians, large reinforcements of their persecuted brethren 
successively arrived, and the little Quaker State rapidly assumed an appear- 
ance of almost Utopian prosperity and concord. 

Whilst in the neighbouring harbour of New York duties and customs 
were levied at the arbitrary pleasure of the English Duke, freedom of trade 
was established in New Jersey. Such an anomaly could not be suffered to 
subsist, and Andros, in the spirit of his instructions, set himself to do it away 
with a high hand. He prevented vessels from landing on the shore of Jersey 
until the obnoxious imposts had been paid; asserted his jurisdiction over that 
province, seized and tried the governor, Cartaret, who refused to yield to 
his pretensions, and in the face of his acquittal by a jury, kept him in confine- 
ment until the matter could be referred to England. These aggressions 
aroused in both the Jerseys a determined spirit of resistance ; even the pacific 
Quakers asserted the constitutional principles of justice and the common law. 

The document containing their arguments in support of the views of the 
colonists, drawn up by Penn and others of his persuasion, is well worthy of 
being cited as a fine specimen of the combined mildness and firmness in the 
pursuit of liberty, which characterize the proceedings of that sect and their 
associates. " To all prudent men," says the remonstrance, " the government 
of an.y place is more inviting than the soil. For what is good land without 
good laws ? the better the worse. And if we could not assure people of an 
easy, and free, and safe government, both with respect to their spiritual and 
worldly property — that is, an uninterrupted liberty of conscience, and an in- 
violable possession of tlieir civil rights and freedoms, by a just and wise go- 
vernment — a mere wilderness would be no encouragement ; for it were a 
madness to leave a free, good, and improved country, to plant in a wilderness, 
and there adventure many thousands of pounds to give an absolute title to 
another person to tax us at will and pleasure. We humbly say, that we have 
lost none of our liberty by leaving our country ; that the duty imposed upon 
us is without precedent or parallel ; that, had we foreseen it, we should have 
preferred any other plaiitation in America. Besides, there is no limit to this 
power ; since we are, by this precedent, taxed without any law, and thereby 
excluded from our English right of assenting to taxes, what security have we 
of any thing we possess? We can call nothing our own, but are tenants at 
■will, not only for the soil, but for our personal estates. Such conduct has de- 
stroyed governments, but never raised one to any true greatness." 

By the consent of both parties the disputed question was referred to the 
decision of Sir William Jones, one of the most eminent la-vvyers of the time. 
His opinion was unfavourable to the pretensions of the Duke of York, Avho 
thereupon, by a fresh indenture, resigned all claim to both West and East 



126 SELF-G0VERN3IENT IX NEW YORK. [1683. 

Jersey, whicli, thus left almost entirely to their own internal government, con- 
tinued rapidly to increase. 

The cruel persecution of the Scottish Presbyterians also drove forth a large 
body of them, who emigrated to East New Jersey, and added their national 
characteristics to those of the numerous fugitives from all parts of Europe, 
who sought refuge from religious intolerance in the New World, and con- 
tributed to build up the majestic fabric of the great and free republic. 

On his first visit to England Andros had endeavoured to convince the Duke 
of York that it would be necessary to concede a system of self-government to 
the discontented colonists — on a subsequent occasion his request was power- 
fully seconded by symptoms of determined opposition to the arbitrary levy of 
taxes under the sole authority of the Duke. A jury in New York had by 
their verdict declared that they deemed this measure illegal, and the same 
opinion was expressed by the lawyers in England. Overwhelmed with fresh 
petitions from the council, court of assize, and corporation, praying that 
they might participate in the government, a request reinforced by Penn, 
whose influence with him was considerable, the Duke of York was at length 
compelled to yield, and Dongan was sent out as governor, empowered to ac- 
cede to the wishes of the colonists, and to summon the freeholders to choose 
their representatives. Accordingly, on the 17th of October, 1683, met the 
first popular assembly in the state of New York — consisting of the governor 
and ten counsellors, with seventeen deputies elected by the freeholders. A de- 
claration of rights was passed; trial by jury was confirmed; and taxes hence- 
forth were to be levied only with the consent of the assembly. Every freeholder 
was entitled to a vote for the representatives. Religious liberty was declared. 
Such was the spirit in which the assembly proceeded to exercise their newly- 
acquired powers. One of their acts was entitled " The Charter of Liberties 
and Privileges granted by his Royal Highness to the Inhabitants of New York 
and its Dependencies." The following year another session was held, to the 
great satisfaction of the colonists ; but soon afterwards the flattering prospect 
thus opened to them of redressing their own grievances, and of managing 
their own affairs, was interrupted by the accession of the Duke of York to 
the throne of England. 



1640.] SIR JOHN HARVEY MADE GOV. OF VIRGINIA. 127 



CHAPTER XI. 



CONTiyrATION OF HISTORY OF VIRGINIA, FROM THE DEATH OF JAMES I. TO THE DEPOSITION OP 

JAMES H. 

It has been seen that the people of Virginia, at the period when the charter 
of the Company was dissolved by the arbitrary proceedings of James I., 
who had intended to frame a code for their compulsory adoption, were al- 
ready, under the auspices of Sir G. Yeardley, in possession of all the elements 
of self-government. Although, by the dissolution of the charter, the right 
of governing the colony devolved exclusively on Charles I., it does not ap- 
pear that he either attempted or even meditated any invasion of its popular 
rights. For this indeed no motive existed. Unlike Massachusetts, the 
nursery of a religious faction hostile to the court, Virginia had established 
episcopacy upon its soil, and its population was known to be loyally affected 
to the crown. All that the monarch, pressed as he was for money, seems to 
have desired, was a monopoly of the profits formerly accruing to the Com- 
pany ; and in order that this might be conceded with a good grace by the 
colonists, he declared his intention of not interfering with their established 
franchises, and referred his proposal for the monopoly to the consideration of 
the assembly. The popular Yeardley was appointed as successor to Wyatt, 
who desired to return to England. Under his administration the colony con- 
tinued to flourish, but his career of government, so beneficial to the Virginians, 
being shortly after closed by death, the council, by the power vested in them, 
proceeded to elect West, and afterwards Doctor Potts, as temporary governors, 
until the arrival of Sir John Harvey with the royal commission. The new 
governor appears, from various causes, to have been exceedingly disliked. 
He was the member of a party hostile to the liberties of the Virginians, and 
was accused of consulting the interests of favourites more than the welfare of 
the colony itself. The general dislike magnified his delinquencies, and when, 
instead of sheltering Clayborne, whose quarrel with Lord Baltimore was 
espoused by the people, he sent him to England for trial, the exasperation 
reached its height ; a majority in the council suspended the obnoxious go- 
vernor from his office, and prepared articles of impeachment against him. 
Harvey repaired to England, together with his accusers, but they were not 
now admitted to a hearing of their charges, and he soon after reappeared in 
Virginia as governor. He was however superseded, in 1639, by Sir Francis 
Wyatt, until, in 1642, Sir William Berkeley arrived to assume the adminis- 
tration. The new governor soon rendered himself as popular as Harvey had 
become detested. He not only did not interfere with the established privileges 



128 VIRGINIA UNDER THE PARLIAMENT. [1G52-58. 

of the colonists, but assisted them in carrying out a system of legishition 
adapted to their own expressed wishes and peculiar local requirements. 
The royal monopoly alone, with Avhich the Virginians had been threatened, 
appeared as a serious grievance : they earnestly protested against its estab- 
lishment ; but as it was not for the present carried out, they soon became 
reconciled, and even attached, to the exercise of the regal authority. 

Such was the state of affairs, when, after the struggle in England between 
the king and his parliament, the authority of the latter became there de- 
cisively established. During its progress, the Virginians had warmly sympa- 
thized with the cause of the monarch, they looked upon his execution with 
horror, and boldly declared their allegiance to his son in the face of all the 
formidable power of parliament. This feeling of ardent loyalty had been in- 
flamed by the constant emigration of a large body of Cavaliers, who fled to 
Virginia to sigh over their ruined fortunes, or, haply, to nourish schemes for 
the future restoration of the royal authority. The warm-hearted governor 
and the hospitable planters received them with open arms ; a correspondence 
had been opened with the fugitive prince, who gratefully sent over his royal 
reappointment of Berkeley as governor. Provoked at this open renunciation 
of their authority, and perhaps apprehensive that Virginia might become the 
nucleus of some dangerous plot, the parliament, with characteristic vigour, 
proceeded to assert and enforce their claim to her obedience. They fitted out 
a squadron, which, after reducing the recusant West India colonies, at length 
appeared in the waters of the Chesapeake. Resistance was in vain ; and, 
moreover, the parliament had adopted the wisest measures, not only to secure 
the allegiance, but even to engage the gratitude of the Virginians. The late 
king had threatened them with his system of commercial monopoly ; the par- 
liamentary commissioners offered them a perfect freedom of trade. Not only 
w^as their representative system maintained in its integrity, but they were al- 
lowed to choose their own governors, and to acquire an absolute right of 
control over the levying and disposing of the taxes ; so that their allegiance 
was rendered little more than nominal. The affections of the Virginians were 
with the " sainted " monarch, as he had been called by them and by his banish- 
ed son ; but a wise regard to their own liberties, with the liberal concessions 
of the parliament, led them to accept its supremacy. Berkeley retired unmo- 
lested into private life, and Richard Bennett, one of the parliamentary com- 
missioners, with the consent of the assembly, succeeded him, Clayborne being 
appointed for his secretary : on his retirement from office, Edward Diggs, 
and after him Samuel Matthews, one of the planters, were elected by the 
people to the vacant office. 

Virginia continued for several years to enjoy, under this system, an almost 
entire tranquillity and a rapid development of her internal resources. Uni- 
versal suffrage, freedom of trade, the choice of a governor, and the control over 
the taxes were established. Although episcopacy was rooted in the affections 
of the people, and established by law, there was in fact, with the exception 
of the Quakers, a practical toleration of other sects. There was a law against 



1644.] INDIAN CONSPIRACY UNDER OPECHANCANOUGH. 129 

Dissenters, but it was not put into force. Various Nonconformists had long 
enjoyed, unmolested, the liberty of worship, when the breaking out of hos- 
tilities between the king and parliament led to a revival of the obnoxious 
statutes and to the banishment of Dissenters by Berkeley. The parliamentary 
commissioners had been particularly enjoined to enforce the abolition of epis- 
copacy, but this they found to be impossible, and though liberty for sectaries 
was for a time established, Virginia remained at heart firmly attached both to 
the state religion and to the royal family. 

During the administration of Berkeley fresh troubles had arisen with the 
Indians, who had not yet renounced the visionary hope of cutting ofFor starv- 
ing the colonists. They had sown what they had reaped, blood was repaid 
with blood. After their memorable conspiracy, it became a standing law to the 
colonists to advance every year upon " their adjoining salvages" and massacre 
them — a cruel reprisal, which probably led to another and equally hopeless at 
tempt by the Indians, who cut off the straggling colonists, but fled as before at the 
aspect of determined resistance. The aged Opechancanough was taken prisoner 
and put to death. A treaty of peace was concluded with his successor, on condi- 
tion of a large cession of territory, and the Indians, their power finally broken, 
began to retreat from the face of the white men towards the boundless west. 

The immense development of the Dutch commercial marine has been 
already noticed. Their ships had acquired a large 23roportion of the carrying 
trade of the colonies. To check their rapid encroachments, from which the 
English shipping interests were severely suffering, the parliament determined 
on adopting a defensive policy. Accordingly an act was passed against the 
importation of any merchandise from Asia, Africa, or America, except in ves- 
sels English built, and manned and owned either in the mother country or 
her dependent colonies. This act, intended solely for the protection of 
British shipping, appeared unfavourable to Virginian commerce, yet it occa- 
sioned but little interruption to her trade with Holland, even during the war 
between that country and England, and generally appears to have been practi- 
cally disregarded or evaded. 

At the death of Cromwell the succession of his son Eichard was pro- 
claimed without opposition. Through the troubled state of affairs in 
England, an impending change was not improbably foreseen by the Vir- 
ginians, who, though secretly desirous for the restoration of the monarchy, 
were chiefly intent upon the maintenance of that increased measure of self- 
government which they had obtained from the parliament. The death of 
Matthews happened during that interregnum between the resignation of 
Richard Cromwell and the restoration of Charles II. The royalist tendencies 
of the Virginians might now venture to display themselves, and Sir William 
Berkeley, who had passed several years among the colonists in honourable 
retirement, was restored by them to his original dignity. In entering again 
upon his functions he acknowledged the authority of the assembly which had 
reappointed him, and agreed not to dissolve it without the consent of the ma* 
jority of its members. 



130 RE-ELECTION OF BLBKELEY AS GOVERNOR. [IGGO. 

Before we pursue the narrative of the affliirs of Virginia it is desirable, if 
not essential, to form a clear conception of the elements of society existing in 
that colony. Originally settled by offshoots or adherents of the English no- 
bility, it had received a more decidedly aristocratic cast from the influx of 
Cavaliers during the civil war in England, who carried with them to the New 
World their hereditary prejudices in favour of the privileges conferred by 
birth and rank, and a contemptuous disregard of popular rights and preten- 
sions. Underlying this class was another, consisting of free descendants of 
the first settlers of inferior rank, and also of indented servants who had been 
brought over by the planters, and who, bound to labour for a certain number 
of years, were, during that period, virtually in a state of serfdom. The intro- 
duction of negro slaves has been already mentioned ; they had since that period 
very largely increased, and were destitute, as at the present hour, not only of 
the rights of freemen, but even of those of humanity itself. 

The aristocratic class naturally acquired a great, and now almost uncon- 
trolled ascendency, which was further increased by the establishment of the 
Anglican Episcopal church. The restoration of Charles II., and the arbi- 
trary tendencies of the English government, strengthened still more its power 
and pretensions, and encouraged it to aim at the uncontrolled direction of 
affairs. It has been already mentioned that, in anticipation of the re-establish- 
ment of the monarchy. Sir William Berkeley, deposed by parliamentarian 
influence, had been re-elected as governor by the royalist party, who pre- 
dominated in the assembly. High-spirited and brave, but obstinate and im- 
patient of opposition, he displayed in a characteristic degree both the virtues 
and vices of his order. Attached to the soil of Virginia, with which he had 
identified his interests and his pleasures, his views of her requirements never 
extended beyond the narrow limits of a class legislation. His policy accorded 
perfectly with that of the assembly by which he had been chosen, and their 
influence was united to perpetuate the tenure of that poAver already in their 
hands. The term for which they were authorized to hold office was two years, 
when a fresh election should, according to previous usage, have taken place. 
They continued, nevertheless, quietly to retain possession of their seats, to 
obtain the reappointment of Berkeley, and to legislate in a spirit entirely 
favourable to their own interests. Furthermore, in order to insure the con- 
tinuance of aristocratic influence, they disfranchised, by their own act, a 
large proportion of the people who had chosen them, confining in future 
the exercise of the elective privilege to freeholders and housekeepers alone. 
The taxes became exorbitant, the governor and assembly Avere overpaid, while 
all power of checking these disorders was taken out of the hands of the people. 

The discontents engendered in the minds of the commonalty by these and 
other encroachments on the part of the assembly, were suspended for a while 
by the union of all parties in a common protest against the navigation act. 
The opposition to this measure in Massachusetts has been already mentioned. 
It bore with peculiar severity upon the trade of the Virginians. Compelled to 
send their tobacco exclusively to England,their market was at once narrowed and 



16G0-70. ] ED UCA TION A ND SLA VER Y IN VIE GINIA. 131 

their prices reduced, and they even meditated a desperate attempt to raise it 
by leaving the land uncultivated for a year, thus producing an artificial 
scarcity. Berkeley was sent to England at a heavy expense, with the hope of 
obtaining some relief for the planters ; but was entirely unsuccessful in his 
mission, although he contrived to obtain for himself a share in the newly- 
erected province of Carolina. Meanwhile the proceedings of the Virginia as- 
sembly were but an echo of those of the government in England. Intolerance 
obtained the ascendency, nonconformity was rendered penal, old edicts were 
revived and sharpened, and fresh ones enacted against Puritans, Baptists, 
and Quakers, who were visited with fines and banishment. With the re- 
membrance of what had happened during the civil war, the pulpit itself was 
dreaded as an engine for moving the public mind, and Berkeley expressed 
his wish that even the established ministry " should pray oftener, and preach 
less." Education was studiously discouraged. " I thank God," continues the 
governor, " that there are no free schools, nor printing, and I hope we shall 
not have this hundred years, for learning has brought disobedience, and 
heresies, and sects into the world, and printing has divulged them, and libels 
against the best government. God keep us from both ! " he piously concludes. 
Such was the aim of the party in power, to maintain the domination of a body 
of wealthy aristocratic planters, over a submissive and ignorant commonalty, 
and an abject herd of indented white servants and of negro slaves. - 

Between the two latter classes, indeed, a marked distinction should be ob- 
served. The white man might and often did break through the trammels of a 
temporary servitude, and enrol himself among the ranks of freemen, though for 
a while deprived by an arbitrary majority of his legitimate privilege of the 
franchise. For the wretched negro there was no such hope, and the laws 
now formally passed constituted him and his posterity the absolute property 
of masters, who might whip, brand, torture, or even kill them, with a restraint 
that was little more than nominal. Even his conversion to the faith of his 
master was declared, by a decision of clerical casuists, to involve no forfeiture 
of this unholy bond, — Christian or heathen, he still remained a slave. It 
would be u.ryust, however, to involve the Virginia assembly alone in the 
guilt of thus establishing slavery, since, with the exception of a few bene- 
volent minds, whose clearness of moral vision no soj)histry could cloud, the 
negro was then universally regarded as being both by nature and provi- 
dence destined to be the bondman of the white ; and we are shortly after 
pained at discovering that the profound philosopher who probed the myste- 
rious laws of the human understanding, conferred, without misgiving, the 
sanction of his illustrious name upon this atrocious violation of human rights. 
"While the popular discontent was rapidly coming to a head, fresh alarm 
was created by the intelligence that the English monarch, with the reckless 
prodigality which distinguished him, had granted away the entire colony to 
the Lords Culpepper and Arlington, two of his rapacious courtiers, against 
whose claims it was thought necessary at first to enter a protest, and if this were 
unavailing, to buy them out ; measures which occasioned the call for a fresh 

s 2 



132 JOIIX WASHINGTON AND THE INDIANS. [1675. 

levy of taxes, already insuj)portably severe. Moryson, Ludwell, and Smith were 
despatched to England on this business, and the governor and assembly em- 
braced the opportunity of soliciting from the court a royal charter, which 
should confirm them in the privileges they had recently assumed. This re- 
quest Avas conceded ; but, before the document had passed the seals, a for- 
midable rebellion had already broken out in Virginia. 

Its immediate occasion, or pretext, appears to have arisen out of certain 
disputes with the Indians, in regard to which, as in so many similar instances 
in American history, it is difficult to arrive at the exact truth. Virginia, it 
must be remembered, had suffered too deeply from the ti'eacherous outbreaks 
of the Indians, not to be predisposed, even after an interval of thirty years' 
peace, to take the worst view of their character and intentions, which the war 
with Philip of Pokanoket, then raging in Massachusetts, could not fail to 
strengthen. The Senecas had attacked and driven the Susquehannahs upon 
the frontiers of Maryland, with which state a war had arisen, in which the 
neighbouring Virginians became involved. Certain outrages of the Indians 
had been resented by a planter named John Washington, who had emigrated 
some years back from the north of England, and became the founder of the 
family from which sprung the illustrious hero of the revolution. He had col- 
lected a body of his neighbours, besieged an Indian fort, and unhappily put 
to death six envoys, sent forth to treat of a reconciliation ; an outrage met 
on the part of the savages by the iisual retaliation of murder, pillage, and 
incendiarism. The indignation of Berkeley was excessive when he heard of 
the flagrant violation of established custom, and which had led to such alarm- 
ing consequences. " Though they had killed my father and mother," he ex- 
claimed, " yet if they had come to treat of peace, they ought to have gone in. 
peace." In the heated state of the public mind, he was accused, on account 
of enjoying a sort of monopoly of the beaver trade with them, of favouring 
the Indians ; but there is no reason to attribute to sordid self-interest an ex- 
clamation which appears to have been exclusively prompted by a feeling of 
humanity and justice. 

In this conjuncture the assembly met, and proceeded to pass an elaborate, 
and certainly unsuitable series of " articles of war." Certain forts were to be 
established, and communications kept up between them ; a system which in- 
volved a ruinous expense. The spontaneous movements of the colonists in 
checking sudden attacks, and their tendency to indulge in fierce and bloody re- 
prisals, were also restrained to a degree of which they became impatient. The 
bitterest discontent prevailed, the scheme proposed by government was pro- 
nounced ineffective and costly, and the more ardent declared their intention 
of taking vengeance with their own hands, and on their ovnx responsibility, 
for any hostilities the Indians should hereafter dare to commit. 

The chief of the malcontents, who numbered among them not a few of the 
rich and influential planters, was a young man named Nathaniel Bacon, but 
recently arrived from England. Educated in the temple, eloquent and of good 
address, and of active and ardent temperament, he had rapidly risen into no- 



1G75.] REBELLION UNDER NATHANIEL BACON. 133 

tice. Being himself the o^viier of estates in Virginia, and, together with 
his uncle, a member of the council, he was thus looked up to by the dis- 
affected as possessing both the qualities and influence requii-ed in a popular 
leader. Whilst the public excitement was at its utmost height, the news ar- 
rived that the Indians had broken in upon his plantation and murdered some 
of his servants ; upon which he instantly flew to arms, and being joined by a 
large body of people, set off in pursuit of the marauders. The governor, re- 
garding this proceeding as an insult to his authority, proclaimed Bacon as a 
rebel, deprived him of his seat in the council, and called upon all those who 
respected his own authoidty to disperse immediately. Some of the less zeal- 
ous of the insurgents obeyed the summons and returned to their homes ; but 
this defection did not restrain their leader, who pushed forward in hot pursuit 
of the Indians. Some bodies of the latter were still on a friendly footing, al- 
though suspected ; and when nearly out of provisions, Bacon and his company 
approached oiie of their forts and requested a supply. This being protracted 
until their necessity became extreme, the English crossed the river in order 
to compel their acquiescence : a shot was discharged from the shore, which 
induced Bacon to retaliate by attacking the fort, and putting a hundred and 
fifty Indians to the sword. Thus, as was so often the case in these miserable 
quarrels, did the innocent suffer for the guilty, and the flames of mutual ani- 
mosity become more widely extended. 

The exasperated governor, meanwhile, had scarcely left James Town with 
a body of troops for the purpose of seizing Bacon and his followers, when a 
general explosion of popular discontent broke out in his rear. The rising of 
the young planter, and the absence of the governor, emboldened the dis- 
affected in the lower counties to fly to arms, and demand the dissolution of the 
assembly. Berkeley was compelled to give way before the storm of popular 
indignation. The " royal " assembly was accordingly broken up ; and writs be- 
ing issued for a fresh election, a large body of representatives were chosen, 
who were bent upon redressing the gi'ievances under which Virginia had so 
long groaned. Among these newly-elected burgesses Bacon was returned in 
triumph ; but as he repaired to James Town in an armed sloop, he was inter- 
cepted and seized by order of the governor, and compelled, in the presence of 
the assembly, to beg pardon for his mutinous behaviour, offering his estate 
as a security for future obedience. 

The members of the new assembly were not long met before they proceeded 
to restore their franchise to those freemen who had been deprived of it by 
their predecessors, and to carry reform into every department of the adminis- 
tration. Bacon, in the mean time, perhaps suspicious of treachery on the part 
of the governor, had secretly absconded, and gathered together a body of 
four hundred of his adherents, who, before* Berkeley could assemble the mi- 
litia to withstand them, appeared in formidable array upon the green at James 
Town. The assembly being convoked. Bacon himself soon after approached 
with a guard of soldiery for the purpose of stating his grievances. The go- 
vernor, accompanied by several of the members, Avent forth to meet him in a 



134 BERKELEY COMPELLED TO FLY TO AC COM AC. [1G7G. 

state of the highest exasperation — his cavalier blood boiled within him at find- 
• ing himself thus outwitted and brow-beaten by a rebel, he tore open his dress, 
■ and exposing his breast, exclaimed, half choked with passion, " Here, shoot me ! 
Fore God ! fair mark, shoot me ! " passionately reiterating his insane request ; 
to which Bacon, though also highly excited, replied, " No, may it please your 
honour, we will not hurt a hair of your head, nor of any other man's — we 
are come for a commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you have 
so often promised, and now we'll have it before we go." The insurgents also 
made the same demand, accompanied by menaces in case of refusal, of the as- 
sembly itself, who, thus threatened, and with many among them who were the 
partisans of the rebel leader, were content enough to give way before the po- 
pular movement, and to compel the governor, though sorely against his will, to 
accede to the demands of Bacon, and also to appoint him to the command of the 
forces sent against the Indians. This point being settled, the assembly pro- 
ceeded to enact many salutary reforms, popularly known as " Bacon's Laws," 
all tending to abate the exorbitant pretensions of the aristocratic party, and to 
restore to the mass of the people the privileges of which they had been un- 
justly deprived. 

Thus by a sudden and well-concerted movement, and without the shedding 
of a drop of blood, a most salutary reformation had been effected. But it was 
impossible that matters could thus rest without a further struggle between 
the hostile parties. The supporters of aristocratic privilege encouraged 
Berkeley, whose adhesion to the new reforms had been most reluctantly con- 
ceded, and who was smarting under a sense of his recent humiliation, a second 
time to proclaim Bacon as a rebel; to which the latter retorted by publishing 
his vindication and denouncing the tyranny of the governor, calling delegates 
to assemble and discuss the critical position of the colony. The popular party, 
among whom were many of the most influential citizens, rallied at his sum- 
mons, and agreed that they would defend him, even against troops that might 
be sent from England, until a statement and appeal could be forwarded to 
the king. 

Thus overborne a second time, the governor was compelled to retreat before 
the storm he had raised. His flight was regarded as an abdication, and writs 
were issued by Bacon for the election of a new assembly. Together with his 
partisans, Berkeley retired to Accomac, where by promises of pay and plunder 
he collected a considerable force, with which he soon returned in triumph to 
the seat of government, which had been abandoned on his approach; but his 
exultation was soon interrupted by the reappearance of Bacon, with an arma- 
ment, which, although inferior to his own in numbers, was animated by a far 
more resolute and determined spirit. James Town immediately was invested, 
and Berkeley, finding his own ardour but indifferently seconded by his men, 
was a second time compelled to retreat some distance doAvn the river. Bacon 
and his followers then re-entered the little town ; the only one which had yet 
grown up in a country where the planters were scattered at wide intervals along 
the numerous inlets and rivers, and consisting of but nineteen dwellings and a 



167G.] BERKELEY'S REVENGE ON THE CONSPIRA TORS. 135 

little cliuvch and state house. Lawrence, one of the most active among the 
popular agitators, set fire to his own abode, and the little capital of Virginia . 
"was soon enveloped in flames, which, seen to a considerable distance down the 
river, acquainted Berkeley and his adherents with the flite of the seat of 
government. This sacrifice, which, though painful to the feelings of the 
insurgents, was deemed necessary to prevent the governor's party from making 
a stronghold of the place, having been made, Bacon boldly marched against a 
large body who were advancing to attack him. Upon the desertion of this 
body their leaders speedily dispersed, leaving him free to prosecute the struggle 
with every pi'ospect of a successful issue, when, to the grief and consternation 
of the popular party, he was suddenly cut off by a disorder contracted among 
the marshy lowlands of James Town. 

The death of their leader, cut off in the flower of his youth, and in 
the midst of a career of success, utterly disconcerted the measures and 
broke the spirits of the insurgents, while it gave increased confidence and 
activity to the governor and his adherents. The greater part of the popular 
leaders were surprised and taken, although some few held out with the 
courage of despair. Lawrence fled and was never heard of more ; Drummond 
and Horsford were made prisoners. The latter was first destined to feel the 
weight of the governor's vengeance, and Avas the first Virginian that ever suf- 
fered death by hanging. He met his fate with intrepidity, glorying in the 
cause of popular liberty for which he was called upon to lay down his life. 
Drummond soon after shared the same fate. The wife of Cheasman, another 
of the leaders, went on her knees before the governor, and pleading that her 
husband had become guilty through her instigation, earnestly besought him 
to allow her to suffer in his stead. Berkeley dismissed the asronized sufferer 
with a torrent of unmanly insult, and refused to show mercy to his victim, 
who escaped the ignominy of an execution by dying in prison soon afterwards, 
outworn with grief and misery. The weak, irritable old Cavalier, his pride 
mortified, and his possessions ravaged, showed like another Jeffery in 
indiscriminate slaughter and confiscation. But his thirst for vengeance was 
interrupted by the protestations of the assembly, and by the arrival of com- 
missioners from England, who had been despatched upon the news of the re- 
bellion, and bearing a royal proclamation to all, with the exception of Bacon, 
who should submit within twenty days of its publication. They brought over 
with them a body of English soldiers, the first ever introduced into the 
American colonies. Even the arrival of the commissioners, although it 
operated as a check, did not however immediately cut short the merciless 
career of Berkeley. Suppressing the publication of the king's pardon, he still 
continued to execute and imj^rison the objects of his vengeance, who, brought 
to trial, were convicted by. partial or terrified jurymen. Eines and confisca- 
tion were also resorted to, until the commissioners at length decisively inter- 
fered, and having declared their readiness to hear any complaints on the part 
of the colonists, so many Avere poured in that their report on the causes of the 
troubles was highly unfavourable to the governor, whose friends published a 



136 OOVERNORSHIP OF LOED CULPEPPER. [1677. 

protest against it, and who himself soon after returned to England, to ajDpeal to 
the king, to the great satisfaction of the bulk of the colonists. But his ardent 
loyalty received a severe shock at hearing that Charles had said of him, " The 
old fool has taken away more lives in that naked country than I for the murder 
of my father ;" and consumed with chagrin at such a reception, and by the cen- 
sure upon his measures passed by the commissioners, he died not long after 
his return to the mother country. 

The reaction produced by the disastrous issue of Bacon's rebellion was very 
unfortunate for the colonists. Some trifling concessions were indeed made to 
their complaints, but the majority of those abuses by which they had been 
provoked into a rising remained in full force. The whole of " Bacon's Laws" 
enacted by the popular assembly were annulled, the franchise, as just be- 
fore, and not as originally, was restricted to freeholders alone, and the 
assembly chosen by it was only to meet once in two years, nor, except on 
special occasions, to remain m session for more than a fortnight. Oppressed 
with the still stricter enforcement of the navigation laAvs, which ruinously 
reduced the price of their staple, tobacco, saddled with the additional burden 
of supporting a body of English soldiers, forbidden even to set up a printing 
press, the Virginians might have seemed to be sunk into a condition of abject 
and hopeless dependency on the royal power. But a legitimate popular 
movement, even if it fail of its immediate object, never fails to awaken a spirit 
of resistance, which, though for a wliile suppressed, is destined some day to 
work out its desired results. 

The government of the unfortunate colony for the next ten years closely 
resembled that of the mother country itself, in the unblushing profligacy and 
rapacity of those by whom it was administered. The grant of Virginia to 
Arlington and Culpepper has been already mentioned. The latter nobleman 
had obtained the cession of his partner's share, and had been invested besides 
with the oflice of governor for life, as the successor of Berkeley. The spirit 
of sordid avarice which had infected the English court had alone dictated the 
request of these privileges, and in the same spirit was the administration of 
Culpepper conducted. Compelled to repair with reluctance from the delights 
of the court to the government of a distant province, his only indemnification 
was to make the best use of the period of his banishment. He carried out 
with him a general amnesty for the recent political offences, and an act for 
increasing the royal revenue by additional duties. He obtained a salary 
double that of Berkeley's, and still further contrived to swell his emoluments, 
and to satisfy his greediness by means of perquisites and peculations. The pinch 
began to be severely felt even by the most ardent loyalists, and symptoms of 
opposition arose in the assembly itself. The misery of the planters had led 
them to solicit the enforcement of a year's cessation from the planting of 
tobacco, the assembly could but refer it to " the pleasure of the king," and in 
the mean time the exasperated sufferers proceeded to cut up the tobacco 
plants. These outrages, dictated by despair, led to several executions, and 
laws were passed for their future suppression. After thus conducting his 



1675-83.] RAPID PROGRESS OF MARYLAND. 137 

administration for a period of three yerrs, during which he twice repaired to 
England, Culpepper was at length deprived of his office for various mal- 
practices, while at the same time his claims over Virginia were commuted 
for a pension. 

Culpepper was succeeded by Lord Howard of Effingham, who sur- 
passed even his predecessor in the devisal of fresh expedients for fleecing 
the suffering colonists. New fees were multiplied, and a court of chancery 
established, of which he constituted himself the sole judge ; and after thus 
securing the lion's share for himself, participated, it is said, with his own 
clerks the perquisites of their offices. Despotism Avas rapidly attaining 
its climax. A frigate was stationed to enforce the stricter observation of 
the navigation laws, an additional excise duty in England on the import of 
tobacco still further discouraged trade. The conduct of the governor towards 
the assembly became more and more arbitrary, until scarcely the shadow of 
popular liberty was left. Such was the condition of affairs in Virginia at the 
accession of the last of the Stuarts. Alarming symptoms of insubordination 
having appeared, not only among the body of the people, but even in the 
assembly itself, who presumed to question the veto of the governor, that body, 
by order of the arbitrary monarch, was summarily dissolved. But the same 
spirit that was about to hurl James II. from the English throne Avas now fully 
awakened also in the breast of the Virginians, once so loyal, but whose loyalty 
had been too cruelly abused by an infatuated race of kings, and the next 
assembly was imbued with such a determination to maintain its privileges, 
that the governor, counting upon the royal support, determined, after a brief 
experience of its temper, to dissolve it upon his own authority ; upon which 
they deputed Ludwell, formerly conspicuous among the most influential 
loyalists, to complain of this abuse of authority. 

"While Virginia had been agitated by rebellion and almost crushed by 
despotic encroachment, Maryland continued, with little interruption, her tran- 
quil and rapid progress. The broad and liberal basis upon which Cecil, Lord 
Baltimore, had planted his colony, the peaceful and happy circumstances of its 
settlement, insured, for the period of his oAvn life-time at least, an almost total 
exemption from those disputes and revolutions that agitated the other American 
colonies, as well as a handsome return for filie liberal expenditure he had been 
put to. He lived to see this colony widely extending its boundaries, and in- 
creased in wealth, population, and prosperity. As in Virginia, the cultiva- 
tion of tobacco was the principal staple, a great impulse was given to its 
increase by the introduction of slave labour ; and as in Virginia, a proportion- 
able discouragement by the navigation act. 

The wise endeavours of Lord Baltimore to secure an impartial toleration for 
all religious sects, through which the colony had so greatly prospered, and 
immigration from Europe so largely increased, were not in harmony with the 
bigoted spirit nor with the political tendencies of the times. The Catholics, 
by whom the first settlement had been made, had not increased in proportion 
to the Protestants. The Episcopal clergy, unlike their brethren in Virginia, 



138 THE FIRST SETTLERS IN CAROLINA. [1663. 

enjoyed no livings, and consequently no settled incomes, and bitterlj'' com- 
plained to the English bishops of what they considered to be a degraded and 
miserable position. When, after the death of Lord Baltimore, his successor 
repaired to England, earnest attempts were made by the ecclesiastical authorities 
to enforce an establishment for the Anglican Church, a claim which he was 
enabled Avith some difficulty to resist. The prejudices of the times were, 
however, so unfavourable to the Catholics, both in England and in the colony 
itself, that an order was sent out by Charles II. to confine the possession of 
office to Protestants alone, a stretch of authority evidently unauthorized by 
the terras of the charter granted to his father, which exempted the proprietor 
from any control on the part of the crown. 



CHAPTER XII. 



FOUNDATION OF CAROLINA. — LOCKE's SYSTEM OF LEGISLATION FOUND UNSUITABLE. — DIFFICUL- 
TIES "WITH THE COLONISTS. — ABROGATION OF THE " GRAND MODEL." 



The discovery of Florida by Ponce de Leon, and the attempt of Admiral 
Coligny to found upon its shores a Protestant colony, so tragically defeated 
by the cruelty of Melendez, have been already narrated. Since that period 
Spain had never renounced her claims to an indefinite extent of country com- 
prised under the title of Florida, but had not carried her settlements further 
along the line of coast. The early colonists sent out by Ealeigh left fcAv or no 
traces behind them, nor does a patent granted by Charles I. to Sir Robert 
Heath, his attorney-general, for a tract to the southward of Virginia to be 
called Carolina, appear to have been followed by any result beyond a voyage 
of observation. Yet more than one band of immigrants had established them- 
selves at different points of this fertile territory. A small party from New 
England had settled near Cape Fear, bringing with them their love of self- 
government and peculiar religious views. Some of the pioneers of discovery 
who penetrated the wilderness to the southward of Virginia had opened the 
way for more numerous adventurers, some of them bodies of emigrant Dis- 
senters, who spread themselves over the vicinity of the river Chowan, and to 
the north of the neighbouring Sound. 

Soon after the restoration of Charles II., a body of courtiers of the highest 
rank, the Earl of Clarendon, Monk Duke of Albemarle, Lords Berkeley, 
Craven, and Ashley, Sir George Cartaret, Sir John Colleton, and Sir William 
Berkeley, governor of Virginia, " excited," as they affirmed, " by a laudable 



1633-38.] CHARLES II.' S GRANT TO HIS COURTIERS. 139 

and pious zeal for the propagation of the gospel," but in reality by a desire to 
obtain a rich and valuable territory, petitioned the king for a grant of the vast 
province, to be called Carolina, extending from Albemarle Sound to the river 
St. John's, with a westward continuation to the Pacific. The charter, easily 
bestowed at their request by the careless and improvident monarch, resembled 
that of Maryland. The proprietors were to govern with the assent of a 
popular assembly which was conceded to the colonists, and no one might be 
molested for matters of religion, unless he disturbed the civil order and peace 
of the community. 

The first object of the proprietaries was to conciliate the afore-mentioned 
settlers from New England and Virginia. The former body, on hearing of 
the ncAV grant, had claimed for themselves the privileges of self-government, 
which the proprietors, desirous of attrf|,cting fresh emigrants from New Eng- 
land, Avere readily disposed to concede. But the poverty of the soil, com- 
bined with the hostility of the Indians, outweighed their liberal offers ; the 
greater part of the inhabitants returned to New England, while those that 
lingered behind were reduced to such distress that contributions were levied 
by that colony for their relief. 

More fortunate was the issue of an emigration of planters from Barbadoes, 
who entered into an agreement with the proprietaries to remove to the neigh- 
bourhood of Cape Fear River, near the neglected settlement of the New Eng- 
landers. Sir John Yeamans, one of their number, was appointed governor 
of the new country, which received the name of Clarendon. He was espe- 
cially directed to " make things easy to the people of New England, from 
which the greatest emigrations were expected ; " an instruction which he car- 
ried out so wisely, as soon to incorporate the remains of the old settlement. 
He also opened a profitable trade in boards and shingles with the island 
whence he had emigrated, and arranged the general affairs of the little colony 
with great prudence and success. 

Towards the Virginia settlers on the Sound which, with the surrounding 
district, now received the name of Albemarle, and who were supposed by the 
proprietors to be " a more facile people " than the New Englandcrs, Berkeley, 
upon whom the jurisdiction had been conferred, was instructed to be some- 
what less lavish in his concessions. But to a body, many of whom had fled 
malcontent from Virginia, and with whose temper he was well acquainted, he 
judged it expedient to behave with caution. IMaking therefore the tenure of 
land as easy as possible, and appointing as governor the popular William 
Drummond, the same who afterwards shared and suffered death in Bacon's 
rebellion, he made no attempt at interference with existing usages. 

The noble proprietaries, meanwhile, upon a further acquaintance with their 
territory, became greedy of adding to it still greater, and indeed almost 
boundless, acquisitions. They obtained, with little more difficulty than at- 
tended the first, the grant of a second patent, by which their limits were 
increased half a degree northward, and a degree and a half southward, a 
boundary which, being run to the Pacific, included several of the modem 

T 2 



140 LOCKE'S SYSTE3I OF LEGISLATION. [1669. 

States, and even part of Mexico and Texas. The Bahama Ishmds were also 
thrown in. Over this immense territory, which, had it been portioned out 
among its possessors, would have afforded a principality to each, the ]3ro- 
prietors determined to establish a system of legislation, which should exhibit 
the utmost refinement of political sagacity. The office of drawing up this 
scheme devolved on Lord Shaftesbury, who, himself one of the most remark- 
able men of his time, called in the assistance of one far greater than himself, 
the immortal author of the " Essay upon the Human Understanding." In 
framing the desired plan, Locke appears to have steered midway between the 
democratic principles, of Avhich he had witnessed the failure in England, and 
the royalist doctrines of the Tories, and to have lodged the principal power in 
the hands of an almost feudal aristocracy. His pompous and elaborate scheme 
for the government of a country which, with the exception of a few scattered 
settlers, was still in a state of nature, a scheme pronounced to be " incompara- 
ble, fundamental, and unalterable," never was nor could be carried into ex- 
ecution, and after a vain atten^t to accommodate its provisions to a state of 
things to which it was totally unfitted, and much consequent hostility between 
the proprietaries and settlers, it was at length abrogated by the consent of both 
parties. A brief outline of its provisions, however, is due to the illustrious 
name of its founder. 

" The eldest of the eight proj^rietors was always to be palatine, and at his 
decease was to be succeeded by the eldest of the seven survivors. This pala- 
tine was to sit as president of the palatine's court, of which he and three more 
of the proprietors made a quorum, and had the management and execution of 
all the powers in their charter. This palatine's court was to stand in room of 
the king, and give their assent or dissent to all laws made by the legislature of 
the colony. The palatine was to have power to nominate and appoint the go- 
vernor, who, after obtaining the royal approbation, became his representative 
in Carolina. Each of the seven proprietors was to have the j)rivilege of ap- 
pointing a deputy, to sit as his representative in parliament, and to act agree- 
ably to his instructions. Besides a governor, two other branches, somewhat 
similar to the old Saxon constitution, were to be established, an upper and 
lower house of assembly ; which three branches were to be called a parliament, 
and to constitute the legislature of the country. The parliament was to be 
chosen every two years. No act of the legislature was to have any force un- 
less ratified in open parliament during the same session, and even then to 
continue no longer in force than the next biennial parliament, unless in the 
mean time it be ratified by the hands and seal of the palatine and three pro- 
prietors. The upper house was to consist of the seven deputies, seven of the 
oldest landgraves and caciques, and seven chosen by the assembly. As in the 
other provinces, the lower house was to be composed of the representatives 
from the different counties and towns. Several officers Avere also to be ap- 
pointed, such as an admiral, a secretary, a chief justice, a surveyor, a trea- 
surer, a marshal, and register ; and besides these each county was to have a 
sheriff, and four justices of the peace. Three classes of nobility were to be 



1670.] FOUNDATION OF CHARLESTON. 141 

established, called barons, caciques, and landgraves; the first to possess 
twelve, the second twenty-four, and the third forty-eight thousand acres of 
land, and their possessions were to be unalienable. Military officers were also 
to be nominated, and all inhabitants from sixteen to sixty years of age, as in 
the times of feudal government, when summoned by the governor and grand 
council, were to appear under arms, and, in time of war, to take the field. 
With respect to religion, three terms of communion were fixed ; first, to be- 
lieve that there is a God ; secondly, that he is to be worshipped ; and thirdly, 
that it is lawful, and the duty of every man, when called upon by those in 
authority, to bear witness to the truth, without acknowledging which no man 
was to be permitted to be a freeman, or to have any estate or habitation in 
Carolina, But persecution for observing different modes and ways of wor- 
ship was expressly forbidden, and every man was to be left full liberty of con- 
science, and might worship God in that manner which he in his private judg- 
ment thought most conformable to the Divine will and revealed word. Every 
freeman of Carolina was declared to j)ossess absolute power and authority over 
his negro slaves, of what opinion or religion soever." 

Before this cumbrous and unsuitable code had been sent over to Albemarle, 
the planters had already organized a system of legislation far simpler and 
better adapted to their Avants. When at length " the model " appeared, it 
was found, as already stated, titterly impossible to carry it out. Other influ- 
ences had also been at work. A few persecuted Quakers had taken refuge in 
the colony, whom George Fox, the founder of their sect, now visited. His 
simple manners and fervent preaching made a great impression on the colon- 
ists, and made numerous converts, who, it may easily be supposed, were little 
inclined to accept a code which contradicted the fundamental principles of 
their belief. 

While these scattered colonists were growing up in habits of self-reliance 
and self-government, and acquiring a corresponding distaste for foreign con- 
trol, the proprietaries, after a long delay, sent out three vessels, with a body 
of emigrants, under the command .of Captain William Sayle, v»'ho had already 
been employed in a preliminary exploration. An expense of £ 12,000 was in- 
curred in providing necessaries for the plantation of the colony. Touching 
at Port Royal, where they found traces of the fort erected by the Huguenots, 
they finally' settled at a spot between two rivers, which they called the Ashley 
and the Cooper, the family names of Lord Shaftesbury, and where they laid 
the original foundations of Charleston, whence they removed, however, two 
years afterwards, in 1672, to the more commodious situation occupied by the 
present city. 

Before this removal took place, Sayle died, and was succeeded by Sir John 
Yeamans, governor of Clarendon, who introduced a body of negroes from 
Barbadoes, afterwards recruited so largely that they were twice as numerous 
as the whites. Slave labour soon became thus established in darolina, to the 
soil and climate of which it was peculiarly adapted. During the next ensuing 
years a stream of emigrants poured in from England, Ireland, and Scotland, 



142 UNSUCCESSFUL GOVERNORS OF NORTH CAROLINA. [1G7:2. 

from Holland and Germany, and particularly of persecuted Huguenots from 
France, destined to meet with a better welcome and a more lasting asylum 
than had been the lot of their unfortunate predecessors, led out by Ribaut, 
and put to death by the Spaniards. The latter indeed were not idle on this 
occasion, they threatened an attack from St. Augustine, and excited the In- 
dians to revolt ; a domestic insurrection also broke out ; but all these troubles 
were promptly suppressed by the governor. On constituting their new State, 
the " grand model " was found to be too elaborate to be carried out, and a 
provisional system was accordingly agreed upon, by which the government 
was shared by a council of ten, half of whom were elected by the projirietors, 
and half by the colonists, in connexion with twenty delegates chosen by the 
people. Thus had already a popular element grown up, which was soon 
found to be incompatible with the claims of the proprietaries ; and thus the 
subsequent career of the colony displays every where a scene of confusion and 
dissension, of which it is as difficult to trace the origin as it would be tedious 
to dwell iipon the details, and in describing which we shall accordingly en- 
deavour to use the utmost brevity consistent with preserving the general 
thread of the narrative unbroken. 

Turning first to Albemarle or North Carolina, which had by this time made 
considerable progress, we find, as might have been anticipated, that the pro- 
mulgation of the " grand model " was received with the utmost disgust, and 
that bitter and acrimonious disputes arose between the agents of the proprie- 
taries and the people. After the death of Stevens, the governor, the assembly 
elected their speaker, Cartwright, to the vacant office, the limits of which being 
doubtful under the " grand model," he sailed for England, accomj)anied by 
the new speaker, Eastchurch, to submit the case to the proprietaries. Millar, 
a person of eminence in the colony, had been accused of sedition, but being 
acquitted, had also repaired to London with complaints, and his treatment 
being disapproved of, he was rewarded for his troubles with the office of se- 
cretary to the colony. Eastchurch being appointed governor, was, on his re- 
turn, delayed in the West Indies by a wealthy marriage ; while Millar pro- 
ceeded to execute his functions, and to enforce the obnoxious provisions of the 
navigation act, • which pressed heavily upon the rising commerce^ of the 
planters. The public discontent broke out into an insurrection, headed by 
John Culpepper ; Millar was imprisoned ; a popular assembly established ; 
and when Eastchurch appeared to assume his government, the people refused 
their submission. Confident in the justice of their cause, they sent Culpepper, 
who had been apjiointed by them collector of customs, to England, to obtain 
the consent of the proprietaries to the recent changes ; but Millar, having in 
the mean time made his escape, charged Culpepper as he, having effected liis 
object, was about to embark, with " treason " for collecting the revenue with- 
out the authority of the king. Singularly enough, he was defended from this 
unjust charge by no other than Shaftesbury himself — then aiming at popu- 
larity, on the principle that the offence was not towards the crown, but the 
planters ; a plea so successfully urged, that Culpepper was acquitted by the 



1670-90.] TRADE WITH THE BUCCANEERS. 143 

jury. The proprietaries, finding it useless to attempt to carry out their vi- 
sionary " model " by force, agreed to a compromise with the settlers, promised 
an amnesty, and appointed a new governoi', Seth Sothel, a man of sordid cha- 
racter, who, during an administration of five years, pillaged both the proprie- 
taries and the colonists, until the latter at length arose, banished him for a 
twelvemonth, and compelled him finally to abjure the government. 

In South Carolina the progress of matters was hardly more satisfactory. 
The colonists were little disposed to submit to the authority of laws totally 
unsuited for their condition. Large demands were made upon the proprietors 
for supplies, while they looked in vain for returns from the settlers. Yea- 
mans, the governor, was accused by them of consulting his o^vn private in- 
terests rather than those of his employers ; and he was accordingly superseded 
by West, as was West by a rapid succession of others no more fortunate than 
himself. During these fugitive administrations, the buccaneers, or pirates, ap- 
peared at Charleston to purchase provisions, and whether from fear or in- 
terest, the people, and even the governor himself, seemed to have connived 
at and even encouraged their visits. This dreaded body of freebooters had 
sprung up in the West India seas, where the Spaniards had once destroyed 
their haunts, but during the war with Spain they appeared anew, and obtained 
privateering commissions to harass the commerce and attack the cities of 
that country in America ; armed Avith which power they so increased their 
numbers by desperadoes from every clime, and entered upon such daring and 
successful enterprises, that their exploits inspired an admiration, with which, 
however, a feeling of terror was largely mingled. One of their leaders had 
been knighted by Charles II., and another created governor of Jamaica. But 
the horrible abuses of such a system of licensed outrage and pliuider had sur- 
vived the occasion which led to its permission, and the peace with Spain had 
withdrawn from them the countenance of the English government, who now 
desired their suppression. The colonists, half dazzled by the ill-got gains 
which these rovers scattered so freely about them in exchange for provisions, 
half afraid of incurring their enmity, and regarding them, moreover, as their 
natural allies against the neighbouring Spaniards of St. Augustine, were but 
little anxious to observe the prohibitions of the proprietai'ies, who, finding at 
length that Governor Quarry was conniving at the proceedings of the pirates, 
dismissed him from his situation, and appointed Morton in his stead. Nor was 
this connivance at piracy the only indication of a loose code of morality among 
the settlers, connected with, or produced by, the system of slavery. They 
persisted in carrying on a border warfare with the Indians, and selling the 
captives in the West Indies, in spite of the remonstrances of the proprietors, 
who found the breach between themselves and the colonists becoming every 
year wider. In circumstances of such perplexity, placed between two parties, 
the one in favour of the absolute control of the proprietors, the other con- 
tending for a local and independent legislation, Governor Morton, unable to 
satisfy either, was shortly superseded by Colleton, under whose administration 
the dispute broke out into an open quarrel. In vain did he produce a copy 



144 ABROGATION OF THE "GRAND MODEL." [1G93. 

of the " grand model," with its numerous titles and elaborate provisions, for 
the acceptance of the assembly ; they insisted that they had only accepted that 
modification of it originally proposed to them, and drew up another body of 
laws in substitution. In vain did he attempt to enforce the payment of the 
quit-rents due to the proprietaries, and issue, as a last expedient, a proclama- 
tion of martial law. By a singular caprice of fortune, the fugitive Sothel, from 
Albemarle, suddenly appeared at Charleston, artfully assumed the leadership 
of the opposition, and was installed by them in the post of Colleton, who was 
in his turn deprived of his office, and ordered to depart the colony. But the 
popular candidate, thus lifted by a sudden caprice of the South Carolinians to 
a post from which he had been driven by those of the North, soon displayed 
the same characteristics of rapacity and dishonesty which had led to his ex- 
pulsion, and for the second time was disgraced and banished. He was suc- 
ceeded by Philip Ludwell, who carried to England the complaints of the Vir- 
ginians against the administration of Effingham, and was appointed by the 
proprietaries to the government of Carolina. Respected by the colonists, his 
administration opened with every appearance of promise ; but he soon found 
it impossible to enforce the laws against tlie pirates, or to obtain the passing 
of an act enfranchising the Huguenots, which, originally proposed by the as- 
sembly and rejected by the proprietors, was now, when brought forward by 
the proprietors, rejected by the assembly, and he speedily retired from so un- 
pleasant a post. Under his successor an important alteration took place. The 
proprietors passed a vote, " that as the people have declared they would ra- 
ther be governed by the powers granted by the charter, without regard to the 
fundamental constitutions, it will be for their quiet, and for the protection of 
the well-disposed, to grant their request ; " and thus the " unalterable " system 
of Locke, with its high-sounding titles of palatines, landgraves, and caciques 
came to an end, 

" And like the baseless fobric of a vision, 
Left not a wrack, behind ; " 

a notable instance of the fallacy of even the wisest of constitution-makers, in 
seeking to build up an imposing edifice upon a foundation of sand, forgetting 
to adapt their elaborate provisions to the chai'acter and rircumstarces of 
those with whom they have to deal. 



IGGO.] HEWS OF CHARLES II.'S RESTORATION. 145 



CHAPTER XIII. 



AFP.VIKS OP MASSACHUSETTS, FROM THE ACCESSION OF CHARLES II. TO THE DEPOSITION OP 
JAMES II. — DIFFlCULTIE'i WITH THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT. — WAR WITH PHILIP OF POKA- 
NOICET. — ABROGATION OF THE CHARTER. — AFFAIRS OF THE OTHER COLONIES. 

The first news of the restoration of Cliarles II. were brought to Boston 
by the ships in which Whalley and GofFe, two of the regicides, fled for 
their hves from the vengeance of the ministry ; and the fact that they were 
courteously received and shehcred, is sufficient to indicate the poHtical bias 
of the people of Massachusetts, who, with their characteristic Avariness, re- 
solved to await the progress of events before committing themselves to any 
open manifestation of adherence to the restored monarch. In a few weeks, 
more decided accounts were received of the confirmation of the king's power, 
and of the re-establishment of Episcopacy; and now, conscious that they 
must be regarded with suspicion on account of their sympathy with the re- 
publicans, and charged, by numerous enemies created by their intolerant 
policy, with a secret design of throwing off their allegiance to the crown, a 
general court was convened to decide upon the best measures for meeting the 
emergency. A deprecatory address, coviched in Old Testament phraseology, 
humbly excusing themselves on the convenient ground of distance, for not 
having sooner sent in their congratulations ; earnestly entreating that their 
enemies might not be listened to, and that their rights and liberties might 
be maintained inviolate; was forwarded to the good-natured monarch, who 
returned to it a gracious reply. Further to parade their laggard loyalty, a 
treatise upon the Christian Commonwealth, originally drawn up by Eliot for his 
converted Indians, and incautiously published in England, was piiblicly con- 
demned by the court, as well as recanted by its author. Letters were written 
by influential friends, and the agent for the colony instructed to use every 
means to counteract the machinations of its enemies. 

Foreseeing the character of the impending struggle, the INIassachusetts 
leaders felt that they must trust, under Providence, mainly to their own de- 
termined energies. Their first measure Avas to draw up and publish a declar- 
ation of their rights. These were defined to be " the poAver to choose their 
own governor, deputy governor, magistrates, and representatives ; to prescribe 
terms for the admission of additional freemen ; to set up all sorts of officers, 
superior and inferior, with such poAvers and duties as they might appoint; to 
exercise, by their annually-elected m.agistrates and deputies, all authority, legis- 
lative, executive, and judicial; to defend themselves by force of arms against 
every aggression ; and to reject any and every interposition Avhich they might 

u 



146 uVASSA CHU8ETTS SEND 8 ENVO Y8 TO ENGL A ND. [1G62. 

judge prejudicial to the colony." Charles II. Avas at length proclaimed with 
punctilious formality, but all lively demonstrations of rejoicing on the part 
of his adherents were ingeniously forbidden, as if " by his own express 
authority." 

In fact, besides its enemies in England, the ruling party in Massachusetts 
had to contend against others no less active at home. The liberal party, con- 
sisting of Episcopalians, Baptists, and others, who Avere excluded from a share 
in the government, had largely increased, and, encouraged by the posture of 
affairs, loudly demanded a relaxation of the unjust restrictions under which 
they laboured. Even among the theocratic freemen themselves there was a 
division of opinion. The greater part remained stanch to their original prin- 
ciples, but many finding them too rigorous, a " half-Avay covenant" had been 
adopted, by which those who strictly conformed to the established Avorship, 
but Avithout professing themselves regenerate and elect, Avere admitted to the 
civil prerogatives of church membership. There were also many who 
deemed it the Avisest policy to bend to necessity, and not to risk the loss of 
every thing by refusing to make reasonable a«id timely concessions. But the 
majority sternly resolved to maintain their independence of English supre- 
macy, Avhatever might be the issue. To avert, hoAvever, if possible the neces- 
sity of a recourse to armed resistance, Norton and Bradstreet, two confidential 
envoys, were sent over to attempt, if possible, to amuse the English ministry, 
but they were at the same time instructed to deprecate its interference, or, if it 
came to the Avorst, openly to disclaim its authority. 

Such a mission Avas justly regarded as rather hazardous. A very short period 
had sufficed to develope the arbitrary tendencies of the English government. 
Weary of the anarchy of the last days of the republic, all classes had eagerly 
united in welcoming the restoration of the monarchy — conditions were 
never thought of; the time required to make them would haA^e been a 
dangerous, and perhaps a fatal delay. In the momentary gratitude oc- 
casioned by his sudden restoration, Charles had promised every thing, but 
his promises Avere as soon forgotten. There Avas besides a general reaction 
against all parties concerned in bringing about the late revolution, which 
tended to fortify the prerogative of the monarch and to abet the arbitrary pro- 
ceedings of his councillors. The Church of England Avas again in the ascend- 
ant, the Act of Uniformity had been passed, Presbyterians and Independents 
were crushed by severe enactments, and exposed at once to the persecution 
of the ministry as Avell as the dislike of the people. The royalist party had 
to the utmost gratified their thirst for revenge. Such of the regicides as could 
be taken were hung, draAvn, and quartered — among them Hugh Peters, 
father-in-laAv of the younger Winthrop, and formerly minister of Salem. A 
more illustrious victim, Sir Henry Vane, Avas soon after conducted to the block. 
Though opposed to the intolerance of the Massachusetts theocracy, he had ever 
been a firm friend to Noav England, and his influence had procured a charter 
for Rhode Island from the Long Parliament. "When chargied with treason he 
•was " not afraid to bear his Avitness to the glorious cause " of popular liberty. 



1GG2.] CONNECTICUT'S FAVORABLE CHARTER. 147 

nor to " seal it with his blood," and his calm and heroic conduct on the 
scaffold Avon the admiration even of his enemies. Such was the unpropitious 
aspect of affairs when the agents of Massachusetts arrived in England charged 
with their important but perilous commission. With all their tact and in- 
fluence, they were but very partially successful in their object. The confirm- 
ation of the charter was conceded, together with a conditional amnesty for all 
recent offences ; but the king firmly insisted upon the maintenance of his 
prerogative, he demanded the repeal of all laws derogatory to his authority, 
the imposition of an oath of allegiance, and the administration of justice 
in his own name. He also required complete toleration for the Church of 
England, and the repeal of the law confining the privilege of voting to 
church members alone, admission of Episcopalians to the sacrament, with 
the concession of the franchise to every inhabitant possessing a certain 
amount of property. In one respect, and one alone, did he respond cor- 
dially to the wishes of the Massachusetts council, they were freely allowed 
to enact the most stringent provisions against the pertinacious intrusion of the 
Quakers. 

Meanwhile the people of Connecticut, having rapidly increased their set- 
tlements and purchased a considerable tract from the Indians, became desirous 
of consolidating their territory and fixing their institutions by means of a royal 
patent. They were singularly fortunate both in the timing of their petition 
and in the character of their agent. Winthrop the younger was a man of 
high standing and influence, whose naturally fine qualities had been culti- 
vated by education and travel ; a lover of literature and science, his enlarged 
and humane mind rose superior to narrow sectarianism, and advocated an 
impartial toleration ; and while his character was unblemished and his morals 
23ure, he displayed none of that sanctimonious moroseness that characterized 
so many of the Puritans, but could move with unembarrassed dignity and 
ease amidst the meretricious splendour of the courtiers — " amongst them, but 
not of them." His grandfather had received from Charles I. a ring in token 
of services rendered to that monarch ; this, on his audience with the king, he 
is said to have produced, and with effect ; he had also the good fortune to 
obtain the personal favour of the good-natured monarch, and the good will of 
the minister Clarendon, and other influential courtiers. He was thus en- 
abled to return with a patent as ample in territorial concessions, as it was 
hitherto unexampled for the power of self-government which it conceded, for 
the grant extended from the shores of the Narragansett to those of the Pacific, 
including the State of New Haven, which held back for a while its consent to 
the Union, till the apprehension of being placed under the jurisdiction of the 
English commissioners, and of obtaining less favourable terms, induced them 
at length to consent. The charter allowed the colonists to choose their own 
governor and officers, and to exercise legislative and judicial authority on the 
sole condition of an approximation to the lavfs of England, and without any 
reservation of interference by the English government. 

Clarke too, i;ho had been left as agent by Roger "Williams, was, through 

u'2 



148 RHODE ISLAND'S CHARTER RATIFIED. [1GG3. 

the favour of Clarendon, equally fortunate, in obtaining tlie ratification of the 
charter for E.hode Island. How this little State was originated and increased 
by refugees from the intolerance of Massachusetts has been already described. 
Freedom of conscience, and liberty of discussion, had only, upon further ex- 
jDcriment, become more dear to its citizens ; they had been exempted from 
the theological disputes and bloody persecutions that had disgraced Massa- 
chusetts, and in their petition to Charles II. they declare " how much it is in 
their hearts to hold forth a lively experiment, that a most flourishing civil 
state may stand, and best be maintained, with a full liberty of religious con- 
cernments." The general terms of the charter differed but little from that of 
Connecticut, but it contained the especial provision, that " no person within 
the said colony shall be molested, punished, disquieted, or called in question, 
for any differences of opinion in matters of religion, who does not actually 
disturb the civil peace ; but that all persons may, at all times, freely enjoy 
their own consciences in matters of religious concernment, provided they be- 
haved themselves peaceably and quietly, and did not abuse their liberty to 
licentiousness and profaneness, nor to the civil injury of others." The arrival 
of the charter under the broad seal of England created tlie greatest enthu- 
siasm ; a public meeting was convened for its exhibition, and a vote of thanks 
jiasscd to the monarch and his minister, by and through whom it had been 
granted, as well as to the disinterested and indefatigable agent who had pro- 
cured it. 

Whilst Connecticut and Rhode Island were thus rejoicing in their newly 
established privileges, the leaders of Massachusetts were sullenly preparing 
to defend those they had long enjoyed against the threatened interference of 
the English ministry. Among the concessions demanded by the king, those 
of an increase of the franchise, and the toleration of Episcopalians, were in 
themselves both just and desirable, but they were hardly less repugnant to 
the self-constituted theocracy than was the assertion of parliamentary control ; 
and the more so, as they were designed to favour that party Avhich advocated 
and desired it Their answer to the royal requisitions was accordingly 
couched in respectful but evasive language. " For the repealing of all laws 
here established since the late changes contrary and derogatory to his Ma- 
jesty's authority, we, having considered thereof, are not conscious to any of 
that tendency ; concerning the oath of allegiance, we^are ready to attend to it 
as formerly, according to the charter ; concerning liberty to use the Common 
Prayer Book, none as yet among us have appeared to desire it; touching ad- 
ministration of the sacraments, this matter hath been under consideration of a 
synod, orderly called, the result whereof our last general court commended 
to the several congregations, and we hope will have a tendency to general sa- 
tisfaction." Such a reply, it may be well conceived, gave but little satisfac- 
tion to the English ministry : and as fresh complaints against the government 
of Massachusetts continued to pour in, the king declared his intention of pre- 
sently sending out commissioners, armed with authority to inquire into and 
decide unon the matters in dispute. 



16.64.] THE COMMERCE OF MASSACHUSETTS. 149 

This menace produced a wide-spread feeling of excitement and alarm. A 
general fast was proclaimed to invoke the forgiveness and implore the protec- 
tion of God, in whose name and for whose glory the commonwealth had been 
built up. Every possible precaution was immediately taken, the charter was 
intrusted to a committee of four for concealment and safe keeping, and, to 
prevent surprise, none but small bodies of soldiers were allowed to be landed. 
Filled with enthusiasm, yet calm and wary — determined, if possible, to weary 
out the enemy by passive resistance, but prepared, if needful, to contend imto 
the death, the council of Massachusetts awaited with anxiety the arrival of 
the commissioners from England. 

The situation of the dispute with the English government had become more 
critical from its being complicated with difficulties arising out of the acts re- 
lating to trade. These had originated in the reign of Charles L, were asserted 
though not enforced by the Long Parliament, and had been revived with still 
more stringent conditions by that of Charles II. The act of 1651 forbade any 
importations into England unless by ships built in or owned by inhabitants 
of either the mother country or her colonies. This had been enacted princi- 
pally to protect the English shipowners against the rivalry of the Dutch, and 
though it was not seriously objected to by the colonists, had in reality been 
thought to be injurious to their interests, and had consequently been evaded. 
But the act of 1663 required that articles of American production should be 
sent only to the English market, which was followed tip by another forbidding 
the importation of European commodities into the colonies except in English- 
built ships. Thus by this double monopoly were the Massachusetts merchant- 
men constrained both to sell their own commodities at the cheapest, and to buy 
those of foreign countries at the dearest rate. Even the intercolonial trade was 
hampered by a duty to be levied at the port of shipment. These restrictions 
were prompted chiefly by the cupidity of the English merchants, who were 
jealous of the rajjidly increasing commerce of Massachusetts, which, from the 
energetic character of the people, had become the staple of North America, 
and by the desire to divert into their own coffers the profits arising out of it. 
The authority of these laws had never been recognised, and the colonists had 
protested against them ; it is not surprising, therefore, that they should have 
been frequently evaded, if not entirely disregarded. Load complaints, full 
of artful exaggeration, were accordingly made by the English merchants and 
manufacturers. It was alleged, that " the inhabitants of New England not 
only traded to most ports of Europe, but encouraged foreigners to go and 
trafRc with them ; " that " they supplied the other plantations with those fo- 
reign productions which ought only to be sent to England ; " that " having 
thus ,made New England the staple of the colonies, the navigation of the 
kingdom is greatly prejudiced, the national revenues impaired, the people 
extremely impoverished ; " and that " such abuses, at the same time that they 
will entirely destroy the trade of England, will leave no sort of dependence 
towards her on the part of the colonies." The remedy suggested was to 
establish a royal custom-house, with offices to receive the duties, enforce the 



loO PEOPLE OF BOSTON ASSERT THEIR RIGHTS. [1G64. 

provisions of the act, and, sliould they be contumaciously resisted by Massa- 
chusetts, to refuse Mediterranean passes to her ships, so as to expose them to 
capture by the Barbary corsairs, while at the same time offenders were to be 
transmitted to England for trial. This suggestion they followed up by a re- 
commendation to his Majesty to appoint a governor ; nor was it long before a 
commissioner was sent over, authorized to administer to the New England 
governors an oath that they would enforce the provisions of the navigation act. 
They refused to acquiesce, and came to the memorable decision, upon Avhich 
the whole dispute with England afterwards turned, that " not being repre- 
sented in the English parliament, the acts of navigation, passed by that body, 
were an invasion of their rights and privileges." But having thus saved the 
vital question of principle, they gave validity to the acts by the exercise of 
their oivn authority, and appointed a custom-house to receive the duties. 

The dreaded armament made its appearance at Boston about the close of 
July, consisting, in fact, of the vessels sent out to take possession of New 
Netherlands for the Duke of York ; and having on board the commissioners 
appointed to examine into the alleged grievances, and redress them " according 
to the royal power, and their own discretion." Their first demand was for a 
body of soldiers to accompany the expedition, who, however, were so long in 
being raised, that the ships at length departed -without them. 

Meanwhile the court at Boston was occupied in making a trifling concession 
as regards the franchise, to disarm their more active opponents, and in draw- 
ing up a solemn protest against the authority of the commissioners. In this 
document they remind the king that, " under a patent granting to them full and 
absolute power of self-government, and of electing their own magistrates, 
they had for more than thirty years enjoyed this ' fundamental privi- 
lege,' without dispute ; that a commission under the great seal, of four per- 
sons, (one their avowed enemy,) to receive and determine complaints at their 
discretion, subjects them to the arbitrary poAver of strangers, and will be the 
subversion of their all." They declare that "if these things go on, they will 
be either forced to seek new dwellings, or sink under intolerable burdens ; 
that the king will be a loser of the wonted benefit by customs, and this hope- 
ful plantation in the end be ruined. That it is a great unhappiness to have 
no testimony of their loyalty offered but this, to yield up their liberties, which 
are far dearer than their lives, and which they have willingly ventured their 
lives, and passed through many deaths, to obtain." Finally, in their accus- 
tomed phraseology, they remind the monarch " that it was Job's excellency 
when he sat as king among his peoj^le, that he was ' a father to the poor,' and 
that they, ' a poor people,' cry unto their lord the king." This character- 
istic appeal being despatched, they resolutely proceeded to carry its principle 
into practice by issuing an order to forbid any complaints to the commissioners, 
or any exercise of their assumed authority. By this time, the latter, having 
touched at Connecticut, where, as their functions were more welcome and 
useful, they had been received with greater consideration, returned to Boston 
with a firm determination to carry out the royal mission. 



1GG5.] THE ENGLISH COMMISSIONERS IN BOSTON. 151 

Their first proceeding, however harmless, was not calculated to undermine 
the dogged resolution of the fathers of the theocracy. The commissioners, 
themselves Episcopalians, and armed with the royal authority in favour of 
toleration, set u.p and attended the service of the Anglican Church. Each 
party thus predisposed to regard the otRer with dislike, all accommodation Avas 
of course impossible. The magistrates and ministers, inflexible in resolution, 
animated the people by prayer-meetings, and exhortations to stand firm for 
the heritage given them by God. They felt themselves besides the stronger 
party, and the commissioners, unsu^^ported as they were by any adequate force, 
soon found the exercise of their functions to be impracticable, and even ridicu- 
lous. They made a temporary visit to Plymouth and Rhode Island, where 
they settled disputed boundaries, and made offers of fresh charters, which, 
however, were respectfully declined. 

This contumacy of the authorities at Boston, of which accounts had been 
transmitted to the English ministry, appeared to them both groundless and 
unreasonable. They did not consider themselves to be invading the liberties 
of Massachusetts, nor had their agents attempted any act that in their judg- 
ment could be thus construed. To them the assertion of the king's preroga- 
tive and the supreme power of parliament was tacitly involved, if not openly 
expressed, in all charters granted to colonists. The truth seems to be that this 
matter was not very clearly defined, and was interpreted by each party in ac- 
cordance with its own particular views. With Massachusetts it was a ques- 
tion of principle, although mingled with a feeling of bigotry and intolerance. 
They had denied to Charles I., and to the parliament, the right to entertain 
appeals against their local legislation, and the same right they still continued to 
deny, since their charter, while it gave them unlimited powers of self-govern- 
ment, made no express provision of the kind. Upon this they accordingly took 
their stand, and the matter at length came to an issue. The commissioners 
opened a court to audit complaints against the magistrates ; — they refused to 
admit its authority. The morning arrived, the plaintiffs appeared, when the 
magistrates adopted a method of nullifying the proceedings, which curiously 
recalled the mode of resistance practised by the parliament towards Charles I. 
They boldly sent forth a herald to proclaim with sound of trumpet, in the 
name of God and llie king, that no one might abet his Majesty'^ honourable 
commissioners in the exercise of their illegal authority. Baffled and pro- 
voked by the cool audacity of the court, the commissioners declared " that 
they would lose no more of their labours upon them, but would represent 
their conduct to his Majesty," and, for the second time, retreated from the un- 
welcome contest, to Gctlle the affliirs of New Hampshire and of Maine. 
Thither, however, they were followed by the indefatigable court , who forbade 
the people of New Hampshire to recognise their authority. In Maine they 
were at first more successful, many appeared disposed to welccmo thoir inter- 
ference, and they attempted to settle claims and exercise jurisdiction, but as soon 
as their backs were turned, the Massachusetts magistrates entered the province 
and promptly put down the disaffected by force of arms. On their return to 



/ 



152 COMMISSIONERS RETURN UNSUCCESSFUL. [1GG5. 

Boston, fresh vexations and indignities Avere in store for the unlucky com 
missioners. They were accustomed, to quote the amusing version of Hildreth, 
*' to hold of Saturday nights a social party at a tavern in Ann Street, kept by 
one Robert Vyal, vintner. This was contrary to the law, which required the 
strict observance of Saturday night as a part of the Lord's day. A constable 
went to break them up, but Avas beaten and driven off by Sir Robert Carr 
and his servant. Mason, another constable, bolder and more zealous, imme- 
diately proceeded to Vyal's tavern ; but meanwhile the party had adjourned 
to the house of a merchant over the way. JNIason went in, staff in hand, and 
reproached them, king's officers as they Avei'e, who ought to set a better ex- 
ample, for being so uncivil as to beat a constable ; telling them that it was 
well they had changed their quarters, as otherwise he should have arrested 
them all. ' What,' said Carr, ' arrest the king's commissioners ! ' ' Yes,' an- 
swered Mason, 'the king himself, had he been there.' 'Treason! treason!' 
shouted Maverick ; ' knave, thou shalt presently hang for this ! ' and he 
called on the company to take notice of the words." 

" The next day Maverick sent a letter to the governor, accusing the consta- 
ble of treason. The governor also sent a polite note to Carr, informing him 
of a complaint for assault and battery lodged against him by the constable he 
had beaten. What was done in that case does not appear ; but INIason, being 
bound over to the next court, the grand jury found a bill against him. Ma- 
verick, however, declined to prosecute, declaring his belief that the man had 
spoken inconsiderately, intending no harm. The magistrates thought the 
matter too serious to be dropped in that Avay. They did not choose to es'pose 
themselves to the charge of Avinking at treason. The matter finally came be- 
fore the general court, AA'here Mason Avas acquitted of the most serious charge, 
but was fined for insolence and indiscretion, principally, no doubt, through 
apprehension, lest some handle might be made of the matter by the commis- 
sioners." 

The commissioners, being recalled, soon afterAA^ards xcturned to England, 
where their reports elicited an order upon Massachusetts to send OA'er Bel- 
lingham, the governor, and a fcAV others, to ansAver for their defiance of his 
Majesty's shithority, a summons Avhich created no small excitement. Many 
thought that the magistrates had carried matters Avith too high a hand, and 
sent in petitions for their compliance. The court Avas couA^ened ; and after 
several hours spent in prayer, the matter Avas Avarmly debated — some con- 
tending that the king's authority Avas paramount ; Avhile others maintained that 
it could not be admitted Avithout the loss of their liberties, which Avould then 
be at the mercy of the English court. The arguments of the latter party pre- 
vailed; and it Avas determined to evade his Majesty's demand, but, if possible, 
at the same time to conciliate his favour. War had lately broken out between 
Erance and England ; and Charles had suggested to Massachusetts the con- 
quest of Canada. From this project they excused themselves, on the ground 
of distance ; quietly evaded the summons to England, Avith the most profuse 
expressions of loyalty, and softened their refusal by sending a supply of pro- 



1G74.] OROWINa DISCONTENT OF THE INDIANS. 153 

visions for the fleet in the West Indies, with a present of masts for the English 
navy, which, through the neglect and wastefulness of the government, had 
fallen into a miserable plight. By these tactics they hoped for the present to 
avert the royal indignation, and circumstances were happily in their favour ; 
for though the English government was indeed becoming more despotic, and 
would willingly have punished the contumacy of the Puritans, the corruption 
of the court paralysed its active energies, while the firm and formidable atti- 
tude of the colonists imposed respect, and, after a few abortive resolutions, 
Massachusetts was forgotten amidst the dissipations of the palace, and the 
more exciting affairs that absorbed the attention of the king and ministry. 

Scarcely had the colony recovered from this alarm, when it was involved 
in another and far more formidable peril. With the exception of the Pcquods, 
whose extermination has been already described, the Indian tribes in the New 
England territory remained u.ndiminished in numbers, though greatly altered 
in position, and in the feelings with which they regarded the growing en- 
croachments of the colonists. Many, indeed, under the benevolent exertions 
of Eliot and his confederates, had been reclaimed from the v/ild faith of their 
forefathers, and formed into little communities of so-called " praying Indians " 
scattered amongst the settlements of their Christian benefactors ; while other 
small tribes, looking up with awe to the white men, and acquiring a taste for 
their habits, remained in peaceful and contented dependence upon them. Not 
so, however, with the Wampanoags or Pokanokets, and their sachem, Philip. 
His father, Massasoit, has been honourably distinguished for his assistance of the 
Plymouth settlers in their day of distress, but Avhile he had favoured the white 
men, he had looked with suspicion upon their attempts to convert his people 
from their ancient faith, and had endeavoured, but in vain, to obtain from them 
a promise that such attempts should cease. Since the days when the Pilgrims 
landed upon the rock of Plymouth, the Indians had been gradually, but con- 
stantly losing ground. With the thoughtless haste of savages, they had bartered 
their lands for the first trifle that had attracted their childish cupidity ; in- 
capable of foresight, they looked not to the hour when, by increasing numbers, 
their forests should be replaced with fields and houses, until, upon the faith of 
their own treaties, they should be pushed from the old hunting-grounds of 
their fathers. Above all, they little dreamed that their lordship of the forest^ 
their free movements, and their ancient customs, shoukl be curtailed and 
abridged, that they should find themselves feudal vassals where they were 
before independent sovereigns, and accustomed to a jurisdiction of others, 
when traditionary practice had so long sufficed them. — These Lllccr vexations 
festered in the proud bosom of Philip of Pokanoket, yet he way too well ac- 
quainted with the formidable power of the colonists to form ar,y deliberate 
conspiracy against them ; but, as in the Pequod war, circurasLa!i( es trifling in 
themselves, like a sudden spark lighting upon a p]-cpared trail', kindled the 
fierce passions that lay suppressed within, and hurried him into a hasty act 
of revenge, by which the whole of the colonists and Indians were involved in 
a bloody and desolating struggle. 



154 WAE WITH PHILIP OF POKANOEET. [iG75. 

Philip had been before suspected, though it would appear without reason, 
of a design against the English, and had been comj^elled by the people of 
Plymouth to deliver up his fire-arms, to pay a tribute, and acknowledge his 
submission to the colony. Not improbably he might have given vent to his 
disgust in vague and passionate threats against the settlers; at all events 
he was accused by an Indian informer of having formed a conspiracy to de- 
stroy them. This informer was waylaid and murdered by some of Philip's 
adherents, who, being taken, were put upon their trial by a half English, half 
Indian jury, and hanged. Philip hastily retaliated by plundering the near- 
est settlements, while his people, it is said, to his great regret, murdered 
several of the inhabitants. Thus committed by an act of hasty passion into 
open defiance of the English, his pride forbade him to recede, and he found 
himself embarked in a desperate and hopeless struggle against a superior 
power. 

A body of troops from Plymouth and Massachusetts immediately hastened 
to Mount Hope to punish the aggressions of Philip, but found that he had 
fled with his Indians, leaving behind him the burned dwellings and mangled 
bodies of his unhappy victims. The colonists, unable to effect their principal 
object, sent to the Narragansctts to demand assurance of peace, and the delivery 
of fugitives. Forced into a reluctant consent, this powerful tribe was for the 
present compelled to remain passive. In the mean time news came that the 
fugitive chief had posted himself in a swamp at Pocasset — a body of soldiers 
repaired thither and surrounded the place to prevent hi| ^scajDC, but soon 
experienced the harassing perils of an Indian war. Entan^icd in the morass, 
and fired upon by lurking enemies, whom they were unable to discover, they 
were compelled to retreat with the loss of sixteen of their number, while Philip, 
breaking through the toils of his pursuers, escaped to the territory of the Kip- 
mucks, who had already taken up arms. Passions long pent up in the breasts of 
the Indians now suddenly broke forth ; Avhich Philip, running from tribe to tribe, 
inflamed by an appeal to their common grievances and fears, and in a short 
time, not one of the exposed out-scttlcments on the Connecticut was secure. 

Panic prevailed throughout the colony. Dismal portents of still heavier 
calamities were fiincicd in the air and sky ; shadowy troops of careering horses^ 
Indian scalps, and bows imprinted upon the sun and moon, even the sigh of the 
wind through the forer.t, and the dismal howling of wolves, terrified the ex- 
cited imagination of the colonists. The out-settlers fled for security to the 
the tov/ns, where they spread abroad fearful accounts of the cruel atrocities of 
the Indians. Nothing but the sins of the community, it was believed, could 
have brought upon them this alarming visitation, the most innocent amuse- 
ments appeared in a heinous light, and the magistrates and clergy earnestly 
commenced tightening those bonds of discipline which of late had been so 
alarmingly relaxed. 

Meanwhile the war spread along the whole exposed frontier of Connecticut, 
Massachusetts, and even of New Hampshire. To form any adequate concep- 
tion of its horrors, we must previously form to ourselves a correct idea of its 



1G75, 70.] GOFFE DEFEATS THE INDIANS A T IIADLEY. 155 

theatre. Except in the vicinity of tlie larger towns, the M'hole country was 
still overspread with a dense forest, the few villages were almost isolated, being 
connected only by long miles of blind pathway through the tangled woods; 
and helpless indeed was the position of that solitary settler who had erected 
his rude hut in the midst of a profound wilderness, and could see no farther 
around him than the acre or two of ground which he had cleared in the im- 
pervious forest. On the other hand, every brake and lurking-place was inti- 
mately known to the Indians, and the most watchfiii suspicion could not 
foretell the moment of their sudden onslaught. A circumstance which, added 
fearfully to tlie peril was, that they had gradually come to obtain possession of 
fire-arms, thus adding modes of destruction which, had been taught them 
by the white man to those with which they were already familiar. The farmer, 
if he ventured forth to till the fields, was picked ofi'by some lurking assassin, 
while the main body of marauders would burst upon his defenceless dwelling, 
and scalp the helj)less inicint ia the presence of its frenzied mother, or consume 
them in the flames of their own homestead. Unable to cultivate the fields, 
the settlers were exposed to famine, while the convoys of provisions sent to their 
assistance were waylaid and seized, and their escort cut ofi" in ambush. Such 
was the fate of the brave Lathrop, at the spot which still retains the name of 
"Bloody Brook." Tlie cavalcade proceeding to church, the marriage pro- 
cession, if marriage could be thought of in those frightful days, was often 
interrupted by the sudden death-shot from some invisible enemy. *0n one 
occasion, at Hadley, while the people were engaged in Divine service, the 
Indians burst in upon the village, panic and confusion were at their height, when 
suddenly there appeared a man of very venerable aspect, who rallied the ter- 
rified inhabitants, formed them into military order, led them to the attack, 
routed tlie Indians, saved the village, and then disappeared as marvellously as 
he had come upon the scene. The erccited and grateful inhabitants, unable to 
discover any trace of their pi'eserver, supjDosed him to be an angel sent from 
God. It was no angel, but one of Cromwell's generals, old Gofie the regicide, 
who, comj)elled by the vigilant search made after him by order of the Eng- 
lish government, to fly from place to place, had espied from an elevated 
cavern in the neighbourhood the murderous approach of the savages, and 
hurried down to effect the deliverance of his countrymen. 

During the leafy summer the Indians, enabled to conceal themselves in 
every thicket, carried on this harassing warfare to the great disadvantage of 
the English, who sought in vain to grapple with a foe that, after spreading 
death and devastation on all sides, vanished into the impenetrable recesses of 
the woods. But the winter was come, the forests were more open, and a large 
body of a thousand men having been raised by the united efforts of Plymouth, 
Connecticut, and Massachusetts, it was determined to strike a decisive blow. 
The Narragansetts had given shelter to the enemies of the colony, with whom 
it was resolved to anticipate their junction. After a long march through the 
snow, and a night spent in the woods, the soldiers approached the strong- 
hold of the tribe, planted in the midst of a morass accessible only by a 

X 2 



156 THE INDIANS AT LAST OBLIGED TO RETREAT. [1676. 

narrow and fortified pathway, and crowded with armed Indians. The leaders 
Avere all shot down as they advanced to the charge ; but this only excited to 
the highest pitch the desperate determination of the English, who, after having 
once forced an entrance, and being again repulsed after a fierce struggle 
protracted for two hours, burst infuriated into the Indian fort. Revenge for 
the blood of their murdered brethren was alone thought of; mercy Avas im- 
plored in vain ; the fort Avas fired, and hundreds of Indian Avives and children 
perished in the midst of the conflagration ; Avhile their jjrovisions gathered to- 
gether for the long Avinter being consumed, and their Avigwams burned, those 
Avho escaped fioia iire and sword wandered miserably through the forests to 
perish Avith cold and hunger. 

Tiic losses of (r.e English had been severe, but they AA'ere capable of being 
repaired ; those of the Indians Avere irreparable. Their stores destroyed, 
their villages burned, and unable to cultivate their lands to obtain a fresh 
supply, they (;ollected all their energies for one last despairing struggle. 
Permanently to resist the poAver of their enemies Avas hopeless, but they might 
inflict upon them a fearful amount of suffering. Accordingly they fell every 
Avhere Avith fi.-esh fury upon the exposed toAvns, and even approached Avithin. 
tAventy miles of Boston itself. They had threatened, in the insanity of their 
hatred, to carry on the Ava,r for many years. But their strength Avas rapidly 
exhausting itself; stronghold after stronghold fell before the settlers, and by 
the approach of the ensuing autumn the Indians Avere completely broken, and 
began to fade aAvay from the presence of their exterminating foe. 

The Indian leaders, amidst all the disasters of their folloAvers, preserved an 
inflexible courage. Canonchet, the chief of the Narragansetts, being taken, 
Avas offered his life if he Avould consent to negociate a peace. He firmly re- 
fused, and .suffered death Avith stoic resolution. The unhajipy Philip, the 
author of the war, had foreseen its fatal termination for his OAvn race. Wan- 
dering from tribe to tribe, assailed by recriminations and reproaches for the 
misery he had brought upon his brethren, his heart Avas full of the bitterest 
anguish. Compelled at length to return to his old haunts, Avhere he Avas yet 
sustained by Witanio, a female chief and relative, he was presently attacked 
by the English, aa^io carried off his wife and child as captives ; a loss Avhich 
filled up the measure of his sufterings, and it Avas perliaps a merciful release 
Avhen, shortly after, he was treacherously shot by one of his oaa'u adherents 
Avho deserted to uie Eugliyh. Thus perished Philip of Pokanoket, Avho, 
possessed as he Avas of ail the nobler aualities of the Indian chieftain, Avas 
Avorthy of a better fate. His child, the last of the princes of his tribe, Avas 
sold into slavery at Bermuda. * 

INIeanAvliile the agents aa^io had been sent to England returned, and the ex- 
treme terms which they were instructed to demand sufficiently indicated the 
king's intention of subverting the spirit of the charter, or, in default of the 
consent of the colonists, to cancel it. Church-membership Avas no longer to 
be the exclusive condition of the freedom of the colony ; a property qualifica- 
tion Avas to be substituted, an innovation justly deemed no l(;ss than vital. 



1679.] LAST RESOURCES OF THE PEOPLE OF BOSTON. 157 

Kandolph followed soon after with his commission, which was very contemptu- 
ously ignored by the magistrates, who ordered the proclamation of his ap- 
pointment to be torn down. His pertinacious endeavours to carry out his 
ajjpointment were all in vain, and he went home to England to complain of 
the contumacy of the colonists, and to return with an order for them to send 
over two agents empowered to negociate a modification of the charter — a de- 
licate mission at a very critical period. The arbitrary power of the English 
government had reached its height, and the complaints of the English mer- 
chants, and of disaffected persons in the colony itself, afforded a plausible pre- 
text for its interference. Principle forbade the fathers of the theocracy to 
flinch, but policy imperiously demanded of them to bend. The agents were 
sent over, but their powers of treating with the government were most care- 
fully restricted ; they were to make no concessions vital to the liberties of the 
commonwealth, but were to use every artifice, and even to condescend to 
bribery, then universal at ■ the English court, could they but succeed in mi- 
tigating the hardness of the ministerial demands. All their attempts were 
unavailing ; the ministry would not accept the offered concessions ; the agents 
were compelled to f^o back, and Randolph returned in triumph to Boston with 
a writ of " quo warranto," accompanied by a promise of the royal favour pro- 
vided the charter was peaceably surrendered by the colonists. 

Every attempt to avert the catastrophe had been made, and further resist- 
ance was hopeless. The English cities, even London itself, had been disfran- 
chised ; the liberties of the mother country lay utterly prostrate. The governor 
and magistrates were inclined to submission, and proposed to send agents "to 
receive his Majesty's commands." The qtiestion proposed to the deputies was 
warmly debated by them, and agitated the entire community. The religious 
party recalled the fundamental principle upon which the colony had been 
founded, and under which it had gro-vm iip to its actual state of prosperity. 
This being to establish a commonwealth for God, to be governed exclusively 
by his people and for his glory, it was obvious that to surrender it into the 
hands of unregenerated men — to divorce the civil and religious power — would 
strike at the very foundation of their Zion, break down the wall of partition 
between the church and the world, and open their beloved institutions 
and habits to the inroads of profanity, heresy, and vice. " Their fathers 
had not bowed the neck to arbitrary tyranny, neither would they betray the 
sacred cause of Christ, and the civil liberties of their children. They might 
suffer, but not sin ; their liberties might be wrested from them — they would 
not surrender them. Submission would be contrary to the unanimous ad- 
vice of the ministers given after a solemn day of prayer. The ministers of 
God in New England had more of the spirit of John the Baptist than now, 
when a storm hath overtaken them, to be reeds shaken with the wind. The 
priests were to be the first that should set their foot in the waters, and there 
to stand till the danger be past." AVith arguments at once thus noble in 
spirit, but faulty in philosophy, did the pious fathers of the theocracy animate 
the minds of the freemen, who, after a fortnight's discussion, rejected the 



158 CHARTER OF MASSACHUSETTS ANNULLED. [1G83. 

royal mandate, earnestly beseeching, but in vain, the gracious forbearance of 
his JMajesty. A scire facias was issued in England, the charter declared 
to be forfeited ; and thus the rights and liberties of Massachusetts, so long 
and so dearly cherished, lay at the mercy of the English monarch, who was 
known to meditate the most serious and fundamental innovations, but who 
died before any of them could be carried into effect. 

The reign of the last of the Stuarts, no less in America than in England, 
was a period of arbitrary and illegal encroachment. Scarcely was James II. 
enabled to turn his attention to the affairs of the American colonies, than he 
proceeded to carry out his long-cherished design of uniting them under the 
administration of s. ffovenior-general, who should be a passive instrument in 
the hands of dc^]J.atisni, and to ei^force upon the unAvilling theocracy of INIas- 
sachusetts that afor:eral toleration of all religious sects, under cover of which 
he hoped to advance the interests and insure the final supremacy of the 
Koman Catholic Church. These designs, although illegally carried out, had 
yet many important and salutary results. The consolidation of the northern 
colonies tended to give them the sense of their own power, and to unite them 
in resisting the encroachments of the French, while the enforcement of toler- 
ation gave the death-blow to that exclusive system of religious bigotry, the 
mischievous results of which have been developed in the preceding pages. 

In tracing the results of this policy it may be well to depart from our usual 
arrangement, and, in order to insure the unity of the narrative, to glance 
from one colony to another, placed as they were under one general administra- 
tion, and subjected to causes which every where produced the same results. 

Let us first continue our attention to the affairs of Massachusetts. The an- 
nulling of their charter by the late king, had left the members of the government 
as well as the whole population in a state of great anxiety. The theocratic 
leaders who, by their courageous defiance of arbitrary encroachment, had 
precipitated the catastrophe, found themselves deprived of political power, if 
not of moral influence. Even the more moderate jJ^i'ty looked forward with 
great uneasiness to what might befall the colony, now prostrate and helpless at 
the feet of the throne, and the general alarm was increased by the report that 
the government of the colony was to be conferred on Colonel Kirk, a man of 
savage and ferocious temper, who had commanded an English regiment at 
Tangier in Africa, and who afterwards became infamous for his cruelties on 
the occasion of Monmouth's rebellion. This report turned out to be un- 
founded, and .Joseph Dudley, a native of the colony, M'as appointed to a tem- 
jiorary administration. Dudley was one of the party in favour of the king's 
prerogative ; he had been colonial agent in England, and disposed to become 
a complaisant tool in the hands of the power that had appointed him. He 
presented iiis credentials to the assembly, who, after giving vent to their dis- 
satisfaction in a protest, were compelled to break up their sittings. 

Shortly after arrived the new governor. Sir Edmund Andros, fulJy pre- 
pared and authorized to carry out the system marked out for him by James. 
He came out in a royal frigate to enforce the navigation acts, and brought 



1687.] GOVERNMENT OF SIR EDMUND AND EOS. 159 

with hhn two companies of English troops to overawe the stubborn spirits of 
the colonists. He was empowered to remove and appoint the members of 
the council at his pleasure, and, with the consent of a body thus under his 
control, to levy ta.ves, make laws, and call out the militia. His subordinates 
were entirely devoted to him. Dudley, the late governor, was made 
chief justice, and Randoljih, that old antagonist of the theocracy, who had 
spent years of persevering hostility, and put in practice every artifice to hum- 
ble the pride of his enemies, was appointed as colonial secretary. The press, 
previously placed under his control, had already been thoroughly gagged ; it 
Avas now entirely suppressed. / 

The first rude shock to the feelings >f the majority of the people Avas the 
demand of a meeting-house, in which to set up the ceremonial of the Estab- 
lished Church. The proprietors of the building expostulated, the sexton re- 
fused to toll the bell ; but all was in vain, and the surpliccd clergyman went 
through the hated ritual, protected by a force against which it was in vain to 
contend. The dififerent sects which had been so long engaged in a restless 
struggle for toleration. Baptists, Quakers, and Episcopalians, enjoyed their 
hour of triumph, but alloyed with the reflection that what should have been 
granted them as a natural right, was but the result of the designing policy of 
a hated despot. Having established his government in Massachusetts, Andros 
now turned his attention to Rhode Island and Connecticut, against which 
writs of quo ivarranto had been prepared. He summoned the council of the 
first-mentioned State to give up their charter, and upon their demurring, re- 
paired thither himself, and at once dissolved the then existing government, 
appointing an irresponsible commission. In the autumn, protected by a guard, 
he proceeded to Hartford, and made the same demand of the assembly of 
Connecticut, who were at that time in session. Treat, the governor, earnestly 
pleaded with Andros in favour of the beloved charter of their liberties ; the 
debate, protracted until night, was warmly supported, and the feelings of the 
people highly excited. The disputed document lay upon the table, on a sud- 
den the lights were extinguished, and when they were kindled again the 
charter had disappeared. A faithful citizen had snatched it up and fled with 
it, concealing it in the hollow of an old oak, till the time of this tyranny 
should be overpast. Andros declared the charter forfeited, and at the end of 
the records inscribed the ominous word — FINIS. 

In the same summary manner had the charters of East and West Jersey 
been revoked. The assembly of New York had not again been summoned. 
The king had determined to rule without assemblies. Andros repaired 
thither to assert his authority and to appoint Nicholson as his deputy. — ^ 

Over the extensive territory thus subjected to his government, Andros, 
secure of the sympathy and approval of the king, proceeded to establish a 
system of grinding despotism, and to pillage the colonists by the imiDosition 
of fresh fees and taxes. The most notable and shameless expedient was the 
issuing of " writs of intrusion," as they were called, against great numbers 
of people, on the ground that their original titles to the land were defective. 



160 OLD CUSTOMS OF BOSTON DISCONTINUED. [1G88. 

and that they must take out fresh ones from his Majesty, for Avhich prepos- 
terous privilege the most extravagant sums were extorted. Every possible 
device, in short, was adopted by the agents of the government for swelling 
their own coifers at the expense of the people. Their emoluments were vastly 
increased, and fees for the probate of wills multiplied almost twenty-fold. 
^V'hile the proj)erty of the colonists was thus scandalously pillaged, the 
liberties to which they had been so long accustomed were, oiie by one, torn 
from them, until not even the shadow of self-government was left. The old 
town meetings, first established by the Plymouth settlers, and the very basis 
of their polity, were declared illegal, unless for the election of town 
officers. No person was allowed to leave the colony without a permit. The 
government openly asserted their intention to subvert the privileges of the 
people, and to substitute for them the exercise of the royal prerogative alone. 
They denied that the " Habeas Corpus " act extended to the colonies, and 
even refused an appeal to the common law of England. They irritated the 
religious feelings of the bulk of the people, and aroused the animosity of the 
theocratic clergy, by encouraging Dissenters to refuse the taxes levied by the 
towns for their support. Oaths were required to be taken by laying the hand 
on the Bible, a custom deemed superstitious by the Puritans ; and marriages, 
which were before registered by the civil magistrate, could now be celebrated 
at Boston only by the Anglican clergy, and according to the ritual of the 
Prayer Book. Against oppressions so intolerable, and vexations so galling, 
the proud, stern New Englanders revolted ; and a spirit was gathering, which, 
though for awhile suppressed, was ready to burst forth into open insurrection. 
Meanwhile, Increase Mather, one of the principal clergy, fled to England, 
on the almost hopeless errand of laying before James the grievances and suf- 
ferings inflicted by his unprincipled agents. The king, whose policy just then 
was to conciliate the Dissenters, received him civilly, but all his endeavours 
to procure redress were utterly abortive. 

But the career of -tjaat infatuated monarch was rapidly hurrying to a close. 
James had succeeded in alienating every party and every sect in the blind 
endeavour to build up the Poman Catholics upon the ruins of the Estab- 
lished Church. His insidious Declaration of Indulgence, ostensibly for the 
relief of oppressed sectarians, but in reality to advance the interests of his 
party, enraged the clergy of the Establishment, and alarmed the Dissenters 
themselves, who made common cause with the former aoainst the encroach- 
ments of Popery. He had offended the great lords by depriving thcin of their 
places, because they refused to fill up the subordinate offices with his creatures. 
His bringing over an Irish army to supply the place of the disaffected Eng- 
ish soldiers was regarded by the people with disgust and horror. His illegal 
violation of the privileges of the universities, and his forcing upon them pa- 
pistical offi;cers, — but, above all, his impeachment of the seven bishops for re- 
fusing to lend themselves to his arbitrary designs, — had inflamed the popular 
disaffection to the very highest pitch. On the very day that all London rang 
with acclamation, and blazed with bonfires and illuminations, at the issue of 



1689.] SUCCESSFUL INSURRECTION AGAINST ANDROS. 161 

this memorable trial, a messenger had been despatched to "William of Orange, 
who had long been in treaty with the Whig nobility of England, to entreat 
him to hasten his arrival. His appearance on the English soil, with a power- 
ful and veteran army, was the signal for the defection of Churchill with the 
best part of the troops, and of the flight of the Princess Anne, in com- 
pany with his artful wife, her friendship for whom exceeded the love she 
bore to her father. Unmanned by the universal defection, the weak and 
wretched monarch fled even while the more devoted of his adherents were 
endeavouring to effect a compromise with the Prince of Orange, but was 
seized and detained by the populace, and brought back again to his me- 
tropolis. Not a blow was struck. A second flight of the king's justified 
the convention parliament, called together by the prince to settle the 
affairs of the government, in pronouncing the deposition of James, and in 
offering the crown to the Protestant William of Orange. The intelligence 
of these events, as welcome as it was surprising to the people, reached 
Boston on the 4th of April, 1689, and instantly produced a fermenta- 
tion alarming to those in power. Andros affected to disbelieve the news, 
and imprisoned those who brought it. But the New England sagacity and 
spirit Avere fully vigilant and alive. On the 18th, as the commander of the 
frigate stepped on shore, he was surrounded and made pi'isoner by the popu- 
lace. The sheriff, who hastened to quell the disturbance, was similarly treat- 
ed. The whole town was in commotion. The militia gathered together and 
formed under their old leaders ; the ship's barge was intercepted, as it came 
off to rescue Andros, who had fled for safety to the fort, against which the 
guns of'the battery were turned by the people. Andros, obliged to submit, 
was forthwith conducted to prison. Simon Bradstreet, venerable alike for 
years and character, and who had already honourably distinguished himself 
in office, happening to appear at this conjuncture, was pronounced governor 
by general acclamation. This sudden movement, by which the castle and 
frigate fell into the hands of the insurgents, was fully sustained by the popu- 
lation of the surrounding country, who rapidly flocked into Boston to the as- 
sistance of their brethren in the city. The news flew rapidly to Plymouth, 
Bhode Island, and Connecticut, where similar insurrections took place. Every 
where the old charters were brought forth or their authority asserted, and the 
administration of affiirs for the most part fell, provisionally, into the hands of 
the former magistrates, until a new arrangement could be entered into with 
the English government. 

In New York the news of the English revolution produced also a move- 
ment, but by no means so unanimous as that of New England, and destined, 
unhappily, to lead to a tragical result. In that colony, among inhabitants 
partly English and partly Dutch, and unaccustomed to those popular privi- 
leges which had fused together all classes in the Ncav England States, the 
spirit of party and the feelings of caste ran high. The same appointment of 
Papists to office which had given such bitter offence in England was also 
practised at New York, where it created even greater excitement, and where 



162 LEISLER GOVERNOR OF NEW YORK. [1690. 

.he most sinister suspicions were entertained of tlie designs of the king. 
Upon the news of the deposition of James, the populace flew to arms, and sur- 
rounded the houae of Jacob Leisler, a merchant of Dutch origin, and senior 
captain of the companies of militia, who was thus induced to put himself at 
the head of a movement exclusively designed to insure the triumph of Pro- 
testantism, and of William of Orange. As the militia sided with the people, 
Leisler had no difficulty in seizing the fort, and in taking possession of the 
public money. The insurgents put forth a proclamation, in which they avowed 
that their sole design was to hold possession of the province until the arrival 
of orders from the Prince of Orange, to which they promised to pay implicit 
obedience. A committee of safety was organized, who invested Leisler with 
the provisional administration of the province. An address accompanied by 
a letter from Leisler were immediately forwarded to the English monarch. 

This movement of the popular party, together with the prerogatives con- 
ferred upon their leader, were highly offensive to the council and aristocratic 
party, who, although they professed loyalty to the new monarch, refused to 
acknowledge an authority rightly judged by them to be illegal, and by which 
their own was cast into the shade. Unable, however, to cope with their ad- 
versaries, they retired to Albany, where they continued their sessions, whilst 
Nicholson, the deputy of Andros the late governor, took his departure for 
England. 

Thus did the colony present the singular spectacle of two factions, alike 
professing their zealous allegiance to the lawful monarch, and only intent upon 
humbling each other's pretensions ; and this opportunity was quickly furnished 
to Leisler, by the arrival, soon after the departure of Nicholson, of letters from 
the government confirming the latter in his post, and addressed to those who 
" for the time being hold the administration of affairs." In the absence of 
Nicholson, Leisler, conceiving that the authority with which he had been invest- 
ed by the people was valid, assumed the title of lieutenant-governor, and even 
issued warrants to arrest his opponents, a stretch of authority which inflamed 
their exasperation to the highest pitch. During their sittings at Albany, they 
had been threatened with an attack from the Indians, and had demanded 
succour. Leisler sent to their assistance his son-in-law Milbourne, to whom 
they refused possession of the fort, upon which he returned to New York. 
In the mean time 'Leisler continued his preparations for prosecuting the hos- 
tilities pending with Cixnada. 

While the colony was thus a prey to internal anarchy, William had confer- 
red the government of the province upon Colonel Henry Sloughter ; who was 
accompanied by Captain Ingoldsby, in another vessel, with a troop of soldiers 
raised for the Canadian war. The ships were separated by a storm, and the 
captain with his band of soldiers happened to arrive some weeks before the 
governor. As soon as Ingoldsby had landed he demanded possession of the 
fort, but as he could show no order either from the king or Sloughter, Leisler 
refused to give it up to him, although he issued an order that the troops 
should be quartered in the city, and a proclamation, in which he recognised 



1C91.] EXECUTION OF LEISLER AND MILBOURNE. 163 

the authority of Slougliter. Meanwhile a new assembly had been convened, 
who, the opponents of Leisler, inflamed to the utmost the irritation of - 
Ingoldsby, already galled at the refusal of the fort ; and thus, at the moment 
when the new governor arrived, he fell into the hands of a faction composed 
of the bitterest enemies of the unfortunate Leisler, whose conduct was misre- 
presented as nothing short of factious rebellion against the royal authority. 

His fate was hurried on with the indecent precipitation of party revenge. 
Disregarding his offer to surrender the fort, Sloughter ordered that Leisler 
and his council should be arrested for high treason. A special court of eight 
persons was packed to try him, and on refusing to plead before so unjust a 
tribunal, he was pronounced guilty, and sentenced to death, his estate and those 
of his adherents being also confiscated to the crown. The assembly, then newly 
convoked, and composed of the party thoroughly subservient to despotic rule, 
refused to recommend a reprieve, and although the governor desired to await 
the result of instructions from England, the council urged the instant execu- 
tion of the prisoners as essential to the safety of the colony. It is even said 
that the fatal mandate was procured from the heated governor in the midst of 
a banquet artfidly given for the purpose, and protracted until it was too late 
to recall it. It was a cold and rainy morning when Leisler and Milbourne 
were dragged from their weeping families and hurried to the gallows. The 
populace, with tears and execrations, crowded to its foot to behold the doom of 
their favourites, and some of their enemies also repaired thither to gratify 
a hellish vengeance by the sight of their expiring agonies. To one of 
these Milbourne cried out with the last wild energy of a voice soon to be 
hushed in the silence of death, — " Robert Livingston, for this I will implead 
thee at the bar of God ! " The integrity of Leisler was evident in his dying 
address to the people ; he acknowledged that he might have committed errors, 
" through ignoi'ance and jealous fear, through rashness and passion, through 
misinformation and misconstruction," while, together Avith Milbourne, he pro- 
tested his loyalty with his latest breath, and commended his parting spirit into 
the hands of God. The people rushed around to procure some memento of 
his judicial murder, the impression made by it sunk deep into their hearts, 
and, transmitted to their children, greatly fortified those popular principles, in 
his zealous assertion of which their unhappy martyr had incautiously over- 
stepped the doubtful limits of legitimate resistance. ' 

An appeal to the king was afterwards made by the son of Leisler, and the 
result sufficiently indicated the opinion entertained of the transaction by the 
English government. While they admitted that the forms of law had not been 
broken, they recommended that the estates of the deceased should be restored 
to their families. At a later period the iniquitous attainder was completely 
reversed. 



Y 2 



164 EARLY LIFE OF WILLIAM PENK [IG60. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



FOUNDATION OF PENNSYLVANIA. — LIFE OF PENN. — GRANT FROM CHARLES II. — ESTABLISHMENT 
OF THE COLONY. — DISPUTES WITH THE SETTLERS. 



Whilst, during the reigns of Charles and James II., the northern states were 
thus oppressed by foreign tyranny or torn by domestic dissensions, another 
colony had been peacefully planted on the banks of the Delaware, and, undis- 
turbed by interference from abroad, had grown up with unprecedented 
rapidity, owing, in a great degree, to the wise and benevolent policy adopted 
by its founder. This remarkable person was William Penn, the son of 
Admiral Penn, distinguished during the protectorate of Cromwell by the con- 
quest of the island of Jamaica, and afterwards by his conduct and courage 
during the war with Holland, in the reign of Charles II., with whom and his 
brother, the Duke of Yox'k, he was a great favourite. Young Penn was 
entered as a gentleman commoner at Oxford at the period when the Quakers, 
in the midst of abhorrence and persecution from all sects and parties, persisted 
in the propagation of their offensive tenets. Through the earnestness of one 
of their itinerant preachers, the son of the courtier became converted to the 
doctrine of the ISl'ew Light, and it is said, though the truth of the allegation is 
disputed, even went so far as to drag from the backs of the students their 
academical vestments, which he regarded as badges of the Popish superstition. 
Persisting in an enthusiastic advocacy of his new views, he was fined and 
expelled the university. The exasperated old admiral, his father, at first beat 
him and turned him out of doors, but afterwards sent him to make the tour 
of Europe, in the hope that mingling more freely with the great world might 
effect the cure of his eccentric enthusiasm. His travels undoubtedly tended 
both to enlarge his mind and to give additional suavity to his manners, and 
perhaps also to check for a while the revolution which was taking place in his 
moral nature. On his return to London for the purpose of studying the law 
at Lincoln's Inn, he was considered quite "a modish fine gentleman." " The 
glory of the world," he says, " overtook me, and I was even ready to give up 
myself unto it;" but his deep sense of the vanity of the world, and the " irre- 
ligiousness of its religions," which the preaching of the itinerant Quaker had 
produced, were aroused from temporary skimber by his providential en- 
counter with the same individual on the occasion of a journey to Ireland, 
and he determined to cast in his lot with the persecuted advocates of brotherly 
love and impartial toleration. " God in his everlasting kindness," thus he 
declares, " guided my feet into this path in the flower of my youth, when 



16G0-70.] PENN IMPRISONED FOR HIS OPINIONS. 165 

about two and twenty years of age." At once he entered upon that career of 
preaching his beloved doctrines, which in the face of persecution he long 
continued to follow both at home and abroad. Imprisoned in Ireland, he was 
only enlarged to be received on his return to England with the animosity of 
the clergy, the derision of the courtiers, and a fresh ebullition of fury from his 
indignant father, who, for the second time, expelled him fvom his home. But 
the spirit of Penn was too high and calm to be intimidated or exasperated. 
He boldly repaired to court, and while he refused to take off his hat to those 
in power, pleaded with them the cause of the persecuted sectaries. He Avas 
a convert of a grade too high, and of an influence too extensive, to be re- 
jDclled by ordinary penalties : and thus, by the influence of the ecclesiastical 
authorities, he was committed to the Tower, and menaced with imprisonment 
for life. The king sent Archbishop Stillingfleet to reason with him, but the 
apostle of liberty of conscience was not to be convinced by the sophistries 
of despotism ; menaces and promises were alike employed in vain. " Tell my 
father," he said, " that my prison shall be my grave before I will budge a jot, 
for I owe my conscience to no mortal man. I have no need to fear. God 
will make amends for all." He remained many months in confinement, from 
which he was at length released through the influence of the Duke of York, 
the friend of his father the admiral, who, as a brave man himself, could not 
but feel respect for the unflinching courage of his son. 

Again taken preaching in the street, he was brought up, under the con- 
venticle act, to stand his trial at the Old Bailey, where he defended his cause 
with such energy that the jury, in spite of the intimidation of the judges, 
declared him innocent. The judge imperiously demanded another verdict 
of the jurors, while Penn exhorted them to stand up nobly for the liberties 
of their country. After a- confinement of two days and nights, they still 
jicrsisted in declaring the prisoner " not guilty." They were fined for their 
contumacy, while Penn was sent back to prison ; but the moral influence of 
so noble a stand, at a period of servility and corruption, was at the time in- 
valuable, and ultimately became irresistible. 

A^^e cannot follow in detail the incidents of that career, the consistent tenor 
of which may be inferred from what has been already unfolded. The father of 
Penn died, fully reconciled to his noble son, whom, on his death-bed, he com- 
mitted to the protection of the Duke of York, his old and intimate friend, 
through whose influence he afterwards obtained that grant in America of 
which a more detailed mention will presently be made. Again imprisoned for 
several months, he put forth a Plea for Universal Toleration, in which, look- 
ing through the clouds of hostile factions and religious animosities, by which 
the prospect around him was darkened, he clearly foresaw the future tri- 
umph of the principles of religious liberty, and expressed himself, " resolved 
by patience to outweary persecution, and, by constant sufferings, to obtain a 
victory more glorious than his adversaries could achieve by their cruelties. ' 

The accession of James II. to the throne of England worked an entire 
change in the condition of the Quakers, and of Penn, who had long enjoyed 



166 PENN'S INFLUENCE WITH JAMES 11. [1G70-80. 

his friendship, and had already been indebted to him for many import- 
ant services. His worth and integrity, together with his well-known prin- 
ciple of non-resistance, rendered him at once a valuable confidant, and it 
has been also insinuated, a convenient ally of the new sovereign. His 
reputation for favour at court, and his benevolent character, caused him 
to be encircled by a crowd of suppliants, whose suits he not only forwarded 
to the best of his ability, but the contingent expenses of which he often dis- 
charged. It is far from improbable, that his good-nature may have been 
abused by the designing, while his motives were misrepresented by the 
envious and malicious. The first use made of his influence Avas to procure 
the liberation of his imprisoned brethren, fourteen hundred of -^hom were 
at that time languishing in the prisons of England. Can it excite sur^ 
prise, that when the well-known declaration of indulgence was promulgated 
by the designing monarch, it should have been well received by Penn and 
the Quakers ? They had been exposed to the persecution of Episcopalians 
and Puritans, alike, and the toleration now demanded by James, however 
intended to cover his own artful designs, was welcomed by them as a boon 
and a deliverance. It was their hope that what had been introduced, al- 
though illegally, by James, would be ratified by an act of the parliament. 
It has been recently insinuated, that bound as he was by gratitude to the 
monarch, or corrupted by courtly smiles, Penn was henceforth induced to 
become an agent in promoting the success of his designs against the Pro- 
testant religion, and upon the liberties of England ; but this accusation 
appears to be wholly mistaken. That he did not join with the Church and 
the Dissenters in opposing the projects of James, that he was willing to 
consent to the toleration of the Catholics, that, grateful to the despotic 
monarch, he should not have openly sided with his enemies, but continued 
to be his personal adherent, even after his expulsion from the throne, can 
scarcely be charged to his discredit. But it is abundantly evident, that far 
from becoming a willing tool in the hands of the king, he uniformly endea- 
voured to deter him from those arbitrary and illegal courses Avhicli led to his 
eventual downfal; and that while he could see no objection to allow the Ca- 
tholics the same liberty which he demanded for the Quakers, it is undeniable, 
both from the evidence of Clarendon, and the Dutch ambassador. Van Citters, 
that he laboured in private to thwart the Jesuitical influence Avhich pre- 
dominated in James's cabinet. Unhappily, the king was as deaf to Penn's 
advice, as the parliament and the nation, at that time divided by the spirit of 
party, were to his plea for universal and impartial toleration. While, therefore, 
his far-reaching mind looked to future ages for the realization of his hopes 
as to his native land, he resolved attempting to carry out his noble and pa- 
cific principles upon the distant shores of the New World, and to set up 
" an example and standard to the nations." " Tliere Ave may find room, al- 
though not here!" (thus he writes to a friend,) "for the holy experiment." 

Penn had taken an early interest in the concerns of America, which had been 
greatly increased by his transactions Avith the Quakers of Ncav Jersey. His 



1G81.] PENNSYLVANIA GRANTED TO PENN. 1G7 

father had bequeathed him a cLilm against the government for sixteen thou- 
sand pounds. As it was ahnost hopeless to expect the liquidation of this debt ■ 
from an embarrassed and extravagant sovereign, Penn became desirous of ob- 
taining in lieu of it a grant of American territory ; a wish that his influence 
with the Duke of York and the leading courtiers at length enabled him to 
realize. " This day," he observes in a letter dated Jan. 5th, 1681, " after 
many waitings, watchings, solicitings, and disputes, my country was confirm- 
ed to me under the great seal of England, with large powers and privi- 
leges, by the name of Pennsylvania, a name the king gave it in honour of 
my father. I chose New Wales, being a hilly country, and when the secretary, 
a Welshman, refused to call it New Wales, I proposed Sylvania, and they 
added Penn to it, though I much opposed him, and went to the king to have 
it struck out. He said 'twas past, and he would take it upon him ; nor could 
twenty guineas move the under secretary to alter the name, for I feared it 
should be looked on as a vanity in me, and not as a resjiect in the king to my 
father, as it really was. Thou mayst communicate my grant," he adds, " to my 
friends, and expect shortly my proposals. 'Tis a dear and just thing, and my 
God, that has given it me through many difficulties, will, I believe, bless and 
make it the seed of a nation. I shall have a tender care to the government, 
that it be well laid at first." 

The charter thus obtained differed little from that of Lord Baltimore, creat- 
ing Penn absolute lord and proprietor, with the reservation of allegiance to the 
crown ; and it invested in him and his heirs the power of making laws Avith 
" the advice and consent of the freemen," and subject to be annulled by the 
king and council, if contrary to English legislation. The right of levying 
duties and taxes was also reserved to the parliament. 

As there were already within the limits of Penn's grant numerous English, 
Dutch, and Swedish settlers, he sent out the royal proclamation, constituting 
him lord proprietor, by the hands of his kinsman, William Markham ; and to 
engage the good will of these, he tells them " that they are now fixed at the 
mercy of no governor that comes to make his fortune great, that they shiall be 
governed by laws of their own making, and live free, and, if they will, a sober 
and industrious people. I shall not usurp the right of any," he continues, " nor 
oppress his person. God has furnished me with a better resolution, and has 
given me his grace to keep it." Markham was also deputed to arrange the 
question of boundaries with Lord Baltimore. 

The next measure was to issue proposals for the sale of the lands, which 
were disposed of at the rate of twenty pounds for every thousand acres, 
subject to a perpetual quit-rent of one shilling for every hundred acres. A 
company was formed, and three vessels set sail with a body of emigrants for 
the shores of the Delaware — carrying out instructions for building the new 
city, which Penn desired might resemble a green and open country town. 
For the first time, perhaps, the Indians found themselves addressed in the lan- 
guage of genuine philanthropy and good will. " The great God," thus he 
wrote to their sachems, "had been pleased to make him concernedin their part 



188 AB RIVAL OF PENN AT HIS COLONY. [1G82. 

of the world, and the king of the country where he lived had given him a 
great province therein, but he did not desire to enjoy it without their con- 
sent ; he was a man of peace, and the peojole whom he sent were of the same 
disposition, and if any difference should ha23|)eii between them, it might be 
adjusted by an equal number of men chosen on both sides." 

What form of government it would be best to adopt, next engaged the anx- 
ious consideration of the Quaker sovereign. He determined to legislate in the 
most liberal spirit, " to leave to himself and his successors no power of doing 
mischief," " that the will of one man may not hinder the good of a whole 
country — for liberty without obedience is confusion, and obedience without 
liberty is slavery." The assembly, to consist, first, of all the freemen, af- 
terwards, of delegates, never more than five hundred nor less than two hun- 
dred freemen, were to elect a council of seventy-two members, one third to go 
out and be replaced annually, over whom the proprietor was to preside and 
enjoy a triple vote. This council was not only invested with the executive power, 
but was also authorized to prepare bills for presentation to the assembly. In 
addition, a body of forty fundamental laws was agreed upon by Pcnn and the 
emigrants. 

Every preliminary arrangement being concluded, Penn prepared to set sail, 
accompanied by a hundred settlers, chiefly of his own persuasion. His voyage 
was long and disastrous ; the small pox broke out on board, and cut off thirty 
of the passengers. At length the ship entered the broad and majestic Delaware, 
and came to an anchor at Newcastle. As soon as the news of Penn's arrival was 
spread abroad, the magistrates and settlers flocked together, to greet him at the 
court-house ; his title-dee 's were produced ; and he conciliated the assembled 
multitude with promises of civil and religious freedom. Continuing his ascent 
of the river, he landed at Chester, where he found a plain, simple, industrious 
population, composed of Swedish Lutherans and Quakers, who had established 
themselves in a country Avith Avhich, from the purity of the air and Avater, the 
freshness and beauty of the landscape, and the rich abundance of all sorts of 
provisions, he declared, in his enthusiasm, that " Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob 
Avould be Avell contented Avith." Hence his journey up the river is tradition- 
ally said to have been prosecuted in an open boat, Avhen, in the company of a 
few friends, he A^sited and marked the spot upon which he determined to 
found his capital city. At some distance further up the stream, opposite to 
Burlington, his kinsman INIarkham had already commenced the erection of a 
mansion-house for his residence. 

After a visit to Quaker friends in New Jersey and Long Island, and a 
glance at his friend the Duke's capital of Ncav York, Penn returned to Avatch 
over the progress of his colonists ; the affairs that required his earliest atten- 
tion being — to settle the form of government, to arrange the question of 
boundaries, and to propitiate the lasting amity of the Indian tribes. 

An assembly of the Avhole body of freemen Avas convened at Chester ; but, 
as they Avere unaccustomed to the exercise of legislative poAver, they preferred 
to send their delesjates. This circumstance somcAvhat modified the form of 



1682.] THE GOVERNMENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. 169 

both the assembly and the council, the numbers of both being considerably 
reduced, and the power of the proprietary enlarged, — an alteration made, how- 
ever, as Penn declared, at the suggestion of the freemen themselves. The 
three lower countries were now incorporated with Pennsylvania. A code of 
laws Avas enacted nearly resembling those already agreed upon in England 
between the emigrants and Penn. Its broad outlines were worthy of his 
philanthropic professions. Universal toleration was proclaimed, each sect 
was to support itself. Every freeman had the right of voting and holding 
office — the only reservation being the necessity of a belief in God and absti- 
nence from labour on the sabbath. Trial by jury was established. Murder 
alone was punishable with death. Oaths were abolished. Primogeniture, 
with a trifling reservation, was abrogated. Marriage was regarded as a civil 
contract. Two Avise and important provisions, far beyond the legislation of 
the times, must not be overlooked — every child was to be taught some useful 
trade, thus tending to prevent future vagabondage and crime, — while the 
prisons were to be also workhouses, where the offender might be not only 
punished, but fortified in industrious habits, and reclaimed again to the com- 
munity. What a contrast to the horrors of those dens of cruelty, indolence, 
and vice, in the mother country, which the benevolent Howard was the first 
to expose to the world ! 

The arrangement of boundaries with Lord Baltimore proved to be more dif- 
ficult than the work of legislation. ISIany of the charters had been granted 
in ignorance of the geography of the country, an ambiguity which occasioned 
serious disputes. Such was partly the case with that of Penn's, who earnestly 
contended for his desired line of boundary, as being of the last importance to 
the future welfare of his colonists. " It was not the love of the land, but the 
water," and the facility of access and harbouring, that induced him to press his 
claims, and, as Lord Baltimore affirmed, to encroach within the limits of his 
own grant. Of the merits of this dispute, which is in truth somewhat obscure, 
different views have, as might naturally have been expected, been taken by 
different historians. Doubtless both parties believed themselves to be in the 
right, and although, after a warm and tmsatisfactory debate, the negotiation 
was for the present broken off, it was afterwards resumed in England with 
considerable acrimony, and terminated in the assignment to Penn of half the 
territory between the banks of the Delaware and the Chesapeake. 

The memorable interview of Penn with the Indians presents a very differ- 
ent and far more agreeable picture. At Shackamaxon, in the vicinity of his 
newly-founded capital, and near the margin of the beautiful river, stood an 
ancient elm tree of huge girth and spreading branches, — a venerable relic 
of the primeval forest — which remained till the year 1810, when it was 
blown down durinar a storm. Under its broad shadow were assembled, on 
the one hand, the grave sachems of the Delaware tribes, arrayed m then- pic- 
turesquely barbaric costume, and armed with the bow, the club, and the • 
tomahawk ; on the other, the simple-hearted progenitors of the state of Penn- 
sylvania, clothed in their ordinary, although quaint, vestments, and showing 



170 FBKK'S FRIEXDSHIP WITH THE INDIANS. [1C82, 83. 

tlieir confidence by coming to the interview entirely unarmed. Spread in 
the midst were the presents intended for the Indian chieftains. Penn, dis- 
tinguished from his brethren by a simple sash of blue silk, and holding in his 
hand the treaty of amity, addressed the sachems, through an interpreter, in a 
language which appealed to the common feelings of the children of men, 
whatever may be their colour or their clime. His whole soul spoke out in 
his Avords. " We meet," said he, " on the common pathway of good faith and 
good Avill, no advantage shall be taken on either side, but all shall be open- 
ness and love. I will not call you children, for parents sometimes chide their 
children too severely ; nor brothers only, for brothers differ. The friendship 
between you and me I will not compare to a chain, for that the rains might 
rust, or the falling tree might break. We are the same as if one man's body 
were to be divided into two parts : we are all one flesh and blood." Such an 
appeal, backed as it was by the evident confidence and sincerity of him who 
made it, by the absence of even a single weapon of defence, was ncAV to the 
children of the forest, who had been taught by many an act of hasty revenge, 
and many a bloody and exterminating encounter, to regard the Avhite men 
with a deep-seated feeling of suspicion and of hate. It has been argued, and 
with reason, that the Delawares were a peaceful and a feeble tribe, and that 
the older States, who had borne the brunt of the first struggle with the Avilder- 
ness and its tenants, aflbrded a shelter to the newly- founded colony. But in- 
dependently of this consideration, it cannot be doubted that had a similar 
policy been adopted and honestly carried out by the predecessors of Penn, 
much bloodshed might and would have been avoided, and it is certain that 
Pennsylvania enjoys the honourable and gratifying reflection, that her early 
settlement was never distracted by murderous conflicts between its founders 
and the Indians. The desired purchases were peacefully eflected, the vendors 
religiously kept up the memory of the transaction on pieces of bark and strings 
of wampum beads, and pledged themselves to remain in friendship Avith 
Penn and his descendants " Avhile the sun and moon should endure." On the 
part of Penn and his friends no shoAV of armed force ever provoked the sus- 
picions or aroused the hostility of the savages, and thus not a drop of Quaker 
blood Avas ever shed in quarrels AA^th the original possessors of the soil. 

The good understanding produced by this intervicAV Avas carefully kept up. 
During his stay in the country Penn often met the Indians in friendly inter- 
course, reasoned Avith them on matters of religion, and drew forth from amidst 
their clouded and superstitious apprehensions the admission of the same 
fundamental truths of the existence of the Great Spirit, and the immortality 
of man. He partook of their simple fare and mingled in their athletic games. 
On one occasion, as he himself informed Oldmixon, his familiarity involved 
him in a dilemma, which he parried Avith his characteristic prudence. Hav- 
ing visited an Indian sachem, he had retired for the night, when he Avas 
startled by the entry of the daughter of his host, aa^io, thus instructed by her 
father, came and placed herself by his side, in compliance Avith certain ideas of 
hospitality found also among other uncivilized tribes. Shocked and embar- 



1G83.] THE FOUNDATION OF PHILADELPHIA. 171 

rassecl as he was, Penn wisely refrained from openly rebuking what he kiicw to 
be intended as a mark of respect, but contented himself with taking no notice 
whatever of his visitor, till at length she arose and returned to her own couch. 

During these events, Penn had already laid the foundations of his capital. 
A spot between the Delaware and the Schuylkill, then occupied by some 
Swedish settlers, had appeared to him a most favourable site, unsurpassed by 
any in the old world ; and having purchased the ground of them, he had, 
proceeded to draw on it the rude outlines of a city, which he called Phila- 
delphia, in reference to that spirit of brotherly love which is the funda- 
mental principle of his sect. Its streets still retain the names of the " pine," 
" chestnut," or " walnut " trees, upon which their direction was marked ; 
and its open and rectilinear avenues, laid out by Penn himself, its decorous 
and comfortable aspect, and its remarkable cleanliness, have merited the half- 
sarcastic, half-laudatory epithet of " the Paradise of Quakei's." Its buildings 
rapidly increased ; and during the year numerous vessels arrived with a suc- 
cession of fresh emigrants, many of whom took ujd their temporary abode in 
sandy caverns by the river's bank, M'hile they erected more permanent habit- 
ations. In the midst of this scene of activity, Penn convened his newly-cre- 
ated assembly, and submitted to them the plan of a legislation already agreed 
upon, with power to alter or amend it at their discretion. The result of the 
deliberations was a charter of liberties established as legislative council, and 
a more numerous assembly than the preceding. The laws proposed by the 
governor and council were to be ratified by the people at large. The go- 
vernor was, however, to possess a right to negative any proposed law, a re- 
servation absolutely essential to the maintenance of his rights. This charter 
was gratefully received, and acknowledged as conceding an unusual degree 
of popular liberty, which Penn declared his readiness, if called upon, still 
further to increase. 

During his stay in the colony Penn resided at the mansion on Pennsbury 
manor, built by JNIarkham, in a beautiful situation, about twenty miles above 
Philadelphia, and where he enjoyed the tranquillity and beauty of virgin 
nature, and the gratification of beholding the unexamj)led increase of his 
colony. The news of its prosperity had been carried to Europe, and many 
settlers from Germany and Holland, of whom he had made converts during 
his tour in those countries, arrived to seek an asylum from the storms of Eu- 
rope, while numerous Quakers continued to pour in from England. He 
might well boast that he " had led the greatest colony into America that ever 
any man did upon a private credit, and the most prosperous beginnings that 
ever were in it, are to be found among us." Indeed all concurred to promote 
the rapid settlement of Pennsylvania — the mildness of the climate, the fertility 
of the soil — the favour of the Indians — the resources of the proprietor — tlie ab- 
sence of civil or religious dissension. After a considerable stay, Penn prepared 
for his departure to England, having firmly planted and organized his pro- 
vince ; leaving the judicial administration in the hands of five judges chosen 
from the council, to which body was committed the executive functions of the 

z 2 



172 DISPUTES WITH THE SETTLERS. [1G83-88. 

state. So rapid had been the increase of his colony, that when he quitted it it 
contained ah-eady twenty settlements, and seven thousand inhabitants, of 
which two thousand belonged to the city of Philadelphia alone. 

Nevertheless, although he never despaired that " all things would work to- 
gether for good," he Avas doomed, daring his absence, to experience no ordinary 
measure of vexation and disappointment. The same scene of contention was re- 
newed in Pennsylvania that had so often taken place where distant proprieta- 
ries claimed privileges which it was almost impossible to maintain, and popular 
bodies were dissatisfied with the limited authority that they were constantly 
aiming to enlarge. Disputed questions arose between the governor and coun- 
cil on one hand, and the popular assembly on the other, in which Penn ne- 
cessarily became involved. Besides being subject to continual encroachments 
upon his authority, he might also complain with reason, that the quit-rents to 
which he looked as a return for his heavy outlays in founding the colony, 
were appropriated in part to the public service, for which the assembly 
refused to vote a suitable provision. He was also dissatisfied with the con- 
duct of the council, which he superseded by five commissioners, charged 
w^ith executive functions, but soon after sent out Blackwell, an old officer of 
Cromwell, who sternly insisted upon the maintenance of proprietary rights ; 
yet to so little purpose, that after another period of dissension, Penn, anxious, 
to use his own words, " to settle the government so as to please the generality," 
determined " to throw all into their hands, that they might see the confidence 
he had in them, and his desire to give them all possible contentment." Thus 
did the council, at that time entirely popular in its constitution, become in- 
vested with the chief authority, subject to the sole proviso of a veto on the 
part of the proprietor. 

A territorial schism had also taken place. The old settlers on the Delaware 
became jealous of the newly-created colony, dissensions and quarrels arose, 
and ended in the establishment of the old states, by Penn's consent, under a 
separate government of their own, of which Markham became the head. Such 
was the state of matters in Pennsylvania about the period of the revolution in 
England. 



CHAPTER XV. 



PROGRESS OF NEW FRANCE. — THE JESUITS. — THEIR DISCOVERIES. — DESCENT OF THE MISSISSIPFt. 

EXPEDITION OF LA SALLE. 

"While thus along the Atlantic seaboard, from INIaine to Florida, a series of co- 
lonics had been planted and grown up to maturity, without penetrating to the 
mountains which divide the waters flowing directly into the Atlantic from those 



1615.] THE MISSIONARIES OF THE ORDER OF JES US. 173 

which pour into the Mississippi, the French, pushing their explorations far be- 
yond, had navigated the great hikes, descended the mighty river, and established 
a post at its mouth ; thus girdling the whole of the British colonies with an 
outer circle of settlements, and, by their claims to the newly-discovered terri- 
tory, exposing a barrier to the onward progress of the English, whose grants 
extended westward on a right line from the shores of the Atlantic to those of 
the Pacific Ocean. 

The principal agents in this work of discovery were the missionaries of the 
order of Jesus. Upon this celebrated society have been lavished every term 
of reproach, and, unfortunately, not without too much occasion. All Christen- 
dom has been embroiled by their intrigues, and they have been expelled with 
indignation from state after state as enemies of the public peace. Their 
fundamental maxim, that the end will justify the means, with which their 
practice too well coincided, has been stigmatized with deserved abhorrence. 
Their name has become a by-word. Yet, as observed by Macaulay, "good 
as well as evil was strongly intermixed in their character, and the intermix- 
ture was the secret of their gigantic power. That power could never have 
belonged to mere hypocrites. It could never have belonged to rigid moral- 
ists. It was to be attained only by men sincerely enthusiastic in the pursuit 
of a great end, and at the same time unscrupulous as to the choice of means." 
That end, in the purest votaries of the order, Avas the establishment of the 
Eoman Catholic faith, which they devoutly believed to be the only salvation for 
the souls of men ; ^^'hile in minds less elevated, the animating motive was rather 
the temporal influence of the see of Eome, and the extension of their own 
privileges and possessions. One of the most remarkable traits of the Jesuits 
was their Avonderful spirit of discipline, and their implicit obedience to the 
will of their superior. Whether commanded to use every refinement of in- 
genuity, and descend to every dishonest artifice, to insinuate themselves into 
the councils of princes and of statesmen, or, with the devotedness of apostles, 
carry the religion of the cross to distant barbarians among whom their lives 
would be in continual peril, and where they often had to seal their testimony 
with their blood, they obeyed with the same unhesitating simplicity. Of the lat- 
ter class were the men who followed in the track of the first French discoverers. 
Never was perseverance more indomitable or fortitude more heroic than theirs. 
Never did lives more ascetic or self-denying, or a more cheerful endurance of 
tortures and of death, adorn the roll of Catholic or Christian saints and martyrs. 
Exposed to every hardship and privation, cutofi'in a horrible wilderness from 
all intercourse with their civilized brethren, they endured their lot without a 
murmur. Some perished under the tomahawk of the savage, others were 
burned and tortured at the stake, or, Avandering alone in the trackless forests, 
experienced the lingering agonies of starvation. But neither peril nor death 
itself could damp the cheerful ardour of those devoted spirits ; if one fell in 
the breach, another was ready to fill his place, and to carry on the conflict 
until the strongholds of superstition and barbarism were won. Their success 
was commensurate with their indefatigable zeal. It may be urged indeed 



174 SUCCESS OF THE JESUIT MISSIONARIES [1634. 

that their conversions were more apparent than real, that their savage neo- 
phytes only exchanged one form of superstition for another, that few, if any, 
comprehended the doctrines to which they gave their assent, and that the 
missionaries contented themselves with an outward profession of their converts, 
and dazzling their senses with a display of pompous rites and ceremonies. It was 
indeed another characteristic of the Jesuits, and another secret of their won- 
derful influence, that they knew how to adapt themselves to every class 
of character, and to suit their instructions to the mental calibre and the 
social condition of 'those with whom they had to deal. They made it their 
business to civilize, as well as to Christianize, the savage nations to whom they 
were sent. They winked at rooted habits, which time and culture alone could 
eradicate ; in fact, they treated their semi-barbarous converts as children who 
were to be amused and led gradually forward to a knowledge of the truth, to be 
fed with milk for babes, until able to digest the strong meat suited only for full- 
grown men. But their influence was invaluable in taming the rude breast of 
the savage, substituting to some extent the tenderness of Christian charity 
and the love of settled industry, for the pride of the warrior and the desolat- 
ing ravages of sanguinary warfare. The peaceful cross with its touching 
emblems replaced the post covered with human scalps, the humble chapel 
arose amidst the gloomy depths of the woods, and happy had it been if the 
political animosities and sectarian jealousies of Europe had never aroused 
again into fierce activity the ferocious passions which it had been the first 
and holiest object of these missionaries to allay. 

It has been stated in one of the earliest chapters, that the Jesuits had fol- 
lowed in the wake of Cartier and Champlain, the discoverers of Canada and 
the fovxnders of New France, that they had endeavoured to form a settlement 
upon Mount Desert Island, and had planted the Catholic religion on the 
shores of ISIaine. Le Caron, a Franciscan monk, who accompanied Chamjjlain, 
explored the northern shore of Lake Ontario, and in 1615 advanced as far as 
the rivers flowing into Lake Huron, where with his companions he established 
missions among the Huron tribes. 

These were followed up by Fathers Brebeuf and Daniel, who, guided by a 
party of Huron Indians, set out for the far-distant wigwams of their tribe. 
Paddling up the St. Lawrence, they ascended its great tributary, the Ottawa, 
surmounting its numerous falls and rapids, and by carrying their canoes through 
tangled pathways in the forest, as do the " voyageurs" of the present day, 
and enduring every species of hardship, they reached, after a journey of three 
hundred miles, the shores of Lake Huron, converted one of the leading chiefs, 
and succeeded in establishing their missions among the rude but impressible 
savages on its borders. The news of these remarkable successes being trans- 
mitted to France, created the greatest excitement, and led to the permanent 
plantation of the Catholic religion in Canada. Wealthy nobles and delicate 
women devoted themselves to this pious enterprise. A mission college was 
established, as was soon after a hospital for the benefit of both French and 
Indians, and a convent of Ursuline nuns. The island of Montreal, first visited 



1G42.] ENMITY OF THE FIVE INDIAN NATIONS. 175 

by Carticr at the junction of the Ottawa and the St. Lawrence, and in the 
highway to the newly-established missions, solemnly consecrated to the Virgin 
Mary, grew up into a religious station and became the nucleus of a future 
city. Fresh bodies of Jesuit missionaries continued to arrive, and emulate the 
zeal of their predecessors. Among these Raymbault, and his companion 
Jogues, crossed Lake Huron, and advanced to the vicinity of Lake Superior, 
conciliating the chieftains of the Indian tribes. Worn out with hardships, 
Raymbault again reached Quebec, but only to die ; while his companion, de- 
scending the St. Lawrence with his Huron converts, was beset by a party of the 
hostile Mohawks, and forced to run the gauntlet between rows of tormentors, 
his Indian companions perishing in his sight by the tomahawk or the flames. 
Jogues, being spared, made his way to the Mohawk Valley, where he was 
hospitably received by the Dutch settlers. Similar sufferings were inflicted 
upon such of the missionaries as fell into the power of this savage tribe. The 
same success that had followed the missions to the Hurons, attended those to 
the tribes in Maine, which, as before said, had at a very early period been visited 
by the Jesuits ; and thus these indefatigable and devoted missionaries had estab- 
lished the Catholic religion, and with it the political influence of France, from 
the northern boundary of New England to the great lakes of the Far West. 

With one powerful confederacy, however, they were destined to be alto- 
gether as unfortunate. The Five Nations, comprising the Senecas, Onondagas, 
Oneidas, Cayugas, and Mohawks, occupied the country intervening between 
the banks of the St. Lawrence and the Hudson. Against these warlike tribes, 
soon after his arrival in Canada, Champlain had joined the Algonquins and 
Hurons in that expedition already mentioned in an early chapter, an impolitic 
interference, which was punished by these proud warriors with an inveterate 
hostility to his country and their allies, but yet with which was mingled a 
superstitious dread of their religion and influence. They menaced the infant 
settlement of Quebec, and waylaid, as we have seen, the Jesuit missionaries, un- 
til the French were compelled to sue for peace. Nothing therefore was so much 
desired as their conversion. During a temporary pacification, Jogues set out 
again on this perilous mission, from which, as had been his presentiment, he 
never again returned, being put to death soon after his arrival at the fort of 
the Mohawks. 

The flames of war burst forth fiercer than ever, and the scattered missions 
were the especial objects of Indian vengeance. The missionaries met their fate 
with the most heroic constancy, Daniel, surprised by a party of the Mohawks, 
spent his last moments in administering the consolations of religion to his 
flock, and serenely advanced to meet his infuriated executioners. To Bre- 
beuf and Lallemand was reserved a more severe ordeal and a more glorious 
triumph ; they sustained for hours all the refinements of cruelty with a heroism 
which transcended the vaunted courage of the Indian brave, but they died 
forgiving, and not cursing, their pitiless tormentors. The Huron settlements 
were broken up, while the forts and intrenchments of the French hardly pro- 
tected them against their insulting enemies, and they were driven to implore 



176 MARQUETTE REACHES THE MISSISSIPPI. [1GT3. 

.the succour of the New Englanders, which, however, was not afforded them. 
At length another truce took place; which was emhraced as an occasion for fresh 
efforts by the Jesuits to plant the cross among their implacable adversaries, 
and this time, happily, with somewhat better success. Some Christian Hurons, 
who had become captives to the Mohawks, paved the way for the reception of 
Le Moyne, while Mesnard repaired to the Cayugas, and Chaumont and Dablon 
visited the other tribes. They were enraptured at their first success, but soon 
discovered that they had but lulled, not tamed, the jjassions of these ferocious 
warriors, and that their lives hung by a single thread. Some of the French 
had ventured to follow the missionaries, collisions took place with the Indians, 
and a third time the war again burst forth. The distress was now so extreme 
that the Company of New France, reduced to a mere handful, resigned to 
the king a colony which they were unable to defend, by whom it was trans- 
ferred to the new West India Company, then forming by Colbert. The 
l^rotection implored by the Jesuits was immediately afforded, and a French 
regiment commanded by Tracy, who was appointed viceroy, repaired to 
Quebec, a measure which at length effectually restrained the persevering 
hostility of the Five Nations. 

New missions were now set on foot. In 1665, Claude Allouez explored 
Lake Superior, fell in with the tribes of the Chippewa and the Sioux, spread- 
ing every where the dominion of Catholicism and of France ; and while 
thus engaged, first heard rumours from the Indians of the existence of a 
Great River of the West. He returned to Quebec, and with Dablon and 
Marquette, two fresh associates, repaired again to the scene of his former la- 
bours to found a permanent mission, while at the same time French influence 
was still to be further extended by envoys from Quebec, a jDlan which proved 
entirely successful. During the succeeding years, the idea of exploring the 
Great River was renewed, and Marquette, who had long meditated the enter- 
prise, accompanied by Joliet, a Quebec trader, with five Frenchmen, and two Al- 
gonquin guides, ascended on the 10th of June, 1673, to the head of Fox River, 
and carrying their canoes across the intervening ground which separates the 
eastern from the western streams, launched them again upon the waters of 
the Wisconsin, where their Indian conductors, fearful of advancing any 
farther, left them to the guidance of Providence alone. For seven days they 
floated down the stream through a wilderness of which the stillness and re- 
moteness overawed their spirits, when at length, to their inexpressible joy, 
their tiny canoes emerged upon the mighty waters of the Mississippi, 
rolling through vast verdant prairies dotted with herds of buffalo, and its 
banks overhung with primitive forests. With the feelings of men who have 
discovered a new world, they passed the mouth of many a noble tributary, and 
landed to visit the astonished Indians upon the shores, who received them with 
hospitality, and invited them to form a permanent settlement. As they floated 
on day after day, they were greeted by richer scenery and by a different climate ; 
they were fanned by the soft breezes and delighted by the luxuriant vegeta- 
tion of the south ; the sombre pines of the Canadian forests were exchanged 



1675.] LA SALLE SETS OUT ON HIS EXPEDITION. Ill 

for the cotton wood and the pabnetto of the tropics, and they began to suffer 
from the oppressive heat, and the legions of musquitoes which haunt the 
swampy borders of the rivers. Passing through the region discovered two 
centuries before by the ill-fated Soto and his companions, they descended be- 
low the mouth of the Arkansas, and being satisfied that the Great River must 
discharge itself into the Gulf of Mexico, and not into the Pacific or the eastern 
Atlantic, resolved to retrace their course. Slowly paddling against the power- 
ful current of the Mississippi until they reached the mouth of the Illinois, 
they ascended to the upper waters of that river, whence they crossed over to 
Lake Michigan, and after an absence of less than four months, regained the 
spot from whence they started on their romantic and surprising expedition. 

The news of this discovery created great and general excitement, but by 
no one was this felt more than by Robert Cavalier de la Salle, an adventurer 
of good family, educated by the Jesuits, and afterwards engaged in the fur 
trade with the Indians, in prosecuting which he had explored Lakes Ontario 
and Erie. Frontenac, the French governor, had determined to establish a 
post called after his own name, at that spot where the citadel of Kingston now 
overlooks, from its bold eminence, the vast expanse of Ontario, and the outlet 
of the St. Lawrence, studded with its " thousand isles." The energy and 
ability of La Salle had attracted the notice and won the favour of the new go- 
vernor ; a brilliant career seemed opened to him ; he repaired to France, and 
by the assistance of Frontenac, obtained a patent of nobility, an exclusive right 
of trade with the Iroquois, and an extensive tract of territory in the neigh- 
bourhood of the fort, on the condition of his keeping it in an effective state. 
Around this stronghold soon clustered the huts of the Indians and the dwell- 
ings of the French traders ; their flocks and herds increased apace ; the wil- 
derness began to smile with corn-covered clearings opened in the forest ; 
canoes multiplied upon the borders of the lake ; and La Salle, but yester- 
day a poor adventurer, found himself suddenly invested with all the power 
and rustic opulence belonging to a feudal sovereign of the wilderness. But 
his restless and ambitious spirit was excited by the accounts of the discovery 
of the Great River, to attempt a bolder career of enterprise, and he hurried 
over to France with the object of proposing to Colbert the colonization 
of the Mississippi, a commission still further to exj^lore which he soon re- 
ceived. Accompanied by Tonti, a veteran Italian, as his lieutenant, he re- 
turned to Frontenac, built a small bark, with which he ascended the Niagara 
river to the foot of the rapids, below the great fall ; and above them, near the 
shore of Lake Erie, began the construction of the first rigged vessel that ever 
sailed upon the western waters. In this little bark of sixty tons, called the 
Griffin, accompanied by Tonti and a band of missionaries and fur traders. 
La Salle traversed Lake Erie, and passed through the " Detroit," or strait 
which separates it from the limpid sheet to which he gave the appropriate 
name of St. Clair, and sailing across Lake Huron, and by the straits of Mac- 
kinaw, into Lake Michigan, at length came to an anchor in Green Bay. 

From this point, after sending back the vessel for fresh supplies. La SaUe 

2 A 



178 ADVENTURES AND DEATH OF LA SALLE. [1G85. 

and his associates proceeded In canoes up Lake Michigan to the mouth of the 
St. Joseph, where the missionary, Allouez, had estabHshed a station, and to 
which was now added a trading post, called the Fort of the Miamis. Await- 
ing in vain the return of the " Griffin," which had been wrecked on her Avay 
back, La Salle and Tonti, with a body of their followers, crossed over to the 
Illinois river, where, some distance below Peoria, he erected another fort. 
There were still no tidings of the missing vessel, and to proceed Avithout sup- 
plies was Impossible ; murmurs arose among his disheartened followers, and 
detaching Tontin and the Jesuit Hennepin to continue their explorations, and 
having named his new fort " Crevecoeur," in memory of his deep and bitter 
vexation, La Salle set out with only three followers, making his way back 
across the vast wilderness, which spread between him and Frontenac, to ga- 
ther fresh materials for the prosecution of his enterprise. His agents, mean- 
while, were engaged in carrying out his instructions. Hennepin explored 
the ]\Iississippi to the Falls of St. Anthony, and returning afterwards to 
France, published there an account of his travels. Tonti, less fortunate, who 
had been directed to establish himself among the Illinois, was driven thence 
by the hostility of the Iroquois, and was obliged to take refuge at Green Bay. 
Their indefatigable leader at length returned with provisions and reinforce- 
ments, collected his scattered men, constructed a capacious barge, in which 
he descended the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, and building on his way 
a fort called St. Louis, set up the arms of France, and claimed possession for 
her of the newly-discovered territory, to which he gave the title of Louisiana. 
La Salle now returned in triumph to France, with glowing accounts of the 
rich soil and genial climate of the Mississippi valley. His plans for coloniza- 
tion were warmly seconded by the ministry, and four vessels, having on board 
tv\'o hundred and eighty persons, ecclesiastics, soldiers, mechanics, and emi- 
grants, soon left La Rochelle for the shores of the new settlement. Among 
this Ill-assorted company arose jealousies and dissensions, which were aggra- 
vated by a succession of cruel disasters. Unfortunately they sailed past the 
entrance of the river and landed to the westward, on the coast of Texas, and 
while La Salle explored the neighbourhood in a vain attempt to discover the 
object of their research, the store-ship, upon the safety of which the whole 
enterprise depended, was wrecked, and the number of the unfortunate ad- 
venturers was rapidly thinned by privation, misery, and exposure, until there 
remained a mere handful of desperate and disappointed wretches. La Salle 
alone, amidst the ruin of all his prospects, but lately so proud and flourishing, 
remained alone undaunted, he determined to traverse again the Immense space 
that separated him from his feudal domain of Frontenac, and to bring fresh 
reinforcements to the help of his perishing colony. On this forlorn enterprise 
he set out, with a band of sixteen men, two of whom, maddened by disap- 
pointment and suffering, having already picked a quarrel with and killed his 
nephew, Moranget, who was one of the party, now lay in wait for his own life. 
As the unhappy man approached them to inquire after his missing relative, 
the death-shot passed through his own heart, and his unburied corpse was left 



1G8G.] THE FIVE NATIONS' TREATY WITH LA BARRE. 179 

to be devoured by the wild beasts of the prairie. His murderers, quarrellino- 
over the spoils of their leader, met themselves with the same retributive fate 
at the hands of some of their associates, of whom Joutel, the narrator of these 
dismal events, with no more than five others, made their way to the banks of 
the Mississippi, where they fell in with two Frenchmen, left there by Tonti, 
on his return from a vain research after his old confederate. A handful who 
had been left behind at Fort St. Louis also perished ; and thus, after the most 
indefatigable efforts, and the most brilliant prospects of success, came to an 
end the projected colony of La Salle, who bequeathed to his country a 
claim to another empire, to the moralist another and a mournful instance of 
the vanity of ambitious designs, and to posterity the imperishable recollection 
of his gallant though unsuccessful career of enterprise. 

The affairs of Canada, meanwhile, were far from being in a flourishing con- 
dition. The Dutch settlers on the Hudson had formed an alliance with the 
Five Nations, whom the English had been careful to cultivate from religious 
and commercial jealousy of the French, who resented the encroachment of the 
English on the fur trade with the North. Dongan, the governor of New 
York, although charged by James H. to maintain a good feeHng with the 
French, was guilty of using his influence secretly to inflame the dissensions 
between them and their enemies. De La Barre, the governor of New France, 
after convoking an assembly to take into consideration the perilous condition 
of the province, and after making some abortive attempts at negociation, 
marched to attack the Iroquois at the head of a considerable force ; but on 
the way his troops were so reduced and weakened by sickness, arising from 
the miasma of the marshes and forests, that he was compelled to negociate a 
humiliating peace with the foes over whom he had anticipated a signal tri- 
umph. At his desire the chiefs of the Five Nations repaired to his camp, but 
his endeavour to overawe them was met by a strain of contemptuous invective, 
which must have sorely galled the military pride of a veteran French com- 
mander. One of their chieftains addressed to him the following spirited ora- 
tion, in which he personifies him as Onondio, and the English governor as 
Corlear. — " Hear, Onondio, I am not asleep, my eyes are open, and the sun 
which enlightens me discloses to me a great captain who speaks as if he were 
dreaming. He says, that he only came to smoke the pipe of peace with the 
Onondagas. But Garrangula says that he sees the contrary, that it was to 
knock them on the head, if sickness had not weakened the arms of the French. 
"We carried the English to our lakes to trade with the Utawawas, as the Adir- 
ondacks brought the French to our forts to carry on a trade which the Eng- 
lish say is theirs. We are born free ; we neither depend on Onondio nor 
Corlear. We may go where we please, and buy and sell what we please. If 
your allies are your slaves, use them as such — command them to receive no 
other than your people. Hear, Onondio ! — what I say is the voice of all the 
Five Nations. When they buried the hatchet m the middle of the fort, they 
planted the tree of peace in the same place, that instead of a retreat for sol- 
diers, it might be a meeting-place for merchants. Take care that your soldiers 

2 ▲ 2 



180 COL ONIES A T THE A CCBSSIOX OF WILLIAM III. [1G85. 

do not choke the tree of peace, and prevent it from covering your country 
and ours with its branches. I tell you that our warriors shall dance under its 
leaves, and never dig up the hatchet to cut it down, till their brother Onon- 
dio or Corlear shall invade the country which the Great Spii'it has given 
to our ancestors." 

De la Barre was compelled to submit to a disgraceful treaty, and was soon 
after superseded by Denonville, who built a fort at Niagara to cover the route 
to the Lakes, and also as a check upon the incursions of the Iroquois, a mea- 
sure which still further increased the jealousy of the English. An incursion 
into the country of the Senecas followed, but though the Indians retired 
before their pursuers, no permanent impression could be made, and the French 
were driven to solicit the mediation of the English, at the expense of abandon- 
ing their fort, and restoring their captives and spoils. Thus was New France 
almost at its lowest ebb and struggling for mere existence. Possessing a vast ex- 
panse of country studded with a few feeble settlements and forts, separated 
by "immense regions of uncleared wilderness, a military government, a feudal 
proprietary, and no shadow of popular liberty to awaken the spirit of energy 
or enterprise, nothing could present a more striking contrast to the English 
colonies, which occupying a smaller but more compact territory, and in- 
habited by a population who had already acquired the habit of self-govern- 
ment, who had entirely subjugated or overawed the Indians, and Avhose 
position on the sea-board had stimulated to commercial enterprise and facili- 
tated continual immigrations, were rapidly groM'ing up into a powerful and 
wealthy confederacy. Such was the position of the rival colonies at the 
period when the accession of William III. involved North America in the 
hostilities that broke out between France and Enscland. 



BOOK II. 



FROM THE FIRST INTERCOLONIAL WAR TO THE DECLARATION OF 

INDEPENDENCE. 



1688.] AMBITIOUS DEMANDS OF FRANCE. 183 



CHAPTEE I. 



INCIDENXa OF THE FIRST, SECOND, AND THIRD INTERCOLONIAL "WARS. — ■WITCHCRAFT DELUSIOX 
IN NEW ENGLAND. — FOUNDATION OF GEORGIA. 



In the former portion of our narrative we have recorded the bloody struggles 
between the settlers and the aborigines, of which every frontier village and 
lonely farm could tell some dismal story rife with massacre and incendiarism. 
A darker and more humiliating spectacle now opens before us — revolting to 
contemplate, but fraught with a weighty and momentous lesson to posterity. 
"VVe behold two Christian powers, animated by traditional hatred, by com- 
mercial jealousy, and, more melancholy still, by theological rancour, not only 
arming against each other's life, but urging on the barbarous savages, whom 
it was their duty to convert and civilize, to take part in the unnatural strug- 
gle. The devoted missionary, whom we have so lately admired for his heroic 
fortitude in planting religion at the peril of his own life among these savage 
tribes, is now seen blessing his converts, and signing them with the cross as 
they go forth on their bloody errand : the chivalrous gentleman and soldier, 
the mirror of politeness and the ornament of courts, encouraging his savage 
allies ai the stake of the tortured captive. Such are the fearful influences of 
religious fiinaticism and international antipathy in perverting even the best 
and bravest of mankind ! 

The objects sought to be obtained by France were, the maintenance of her 
supremacy over that vast region, from Acadia to the Mississippi, which had 
been discovered by the enterprise of her sons, and the monopoly of that fur 
trade which had there grown up into great importance, and still constitutes a 
considerable branch of commerce. The " Coureurs des Bois," and " voy- 
ageurs," a mongrel race, half French, half Indian, with whose picturesque 
costume every Canadian traveller must have been struck, had already ascend- 
ed the great western rivers and lakes in their canoes, in the prosecution 
of this lucrative traffic,' of which Montreal was then, as now, the principal 
depot. To keep open this important communication they had erected Forts 
Frontenac and Niagara, to overawe and eventually subdue their inveterate 
enemies, the Iroquois. In spite of these forts, however, the English had con- 
trived to penetrate the region, and participate in the profits of the fur trade. 
The French also desired the exclusive possession of Newfoundland, which 
from the earliest times of American discovery had been frequented in com- 
mon by the fishing boats of the European nations, and particularly by 
those of the New England states, to whom the cod fishery was indeed a prin- 



184 MURDER OF WALDRON BY THE INDIANS. [1688. 

cipal source of wealth. To carry out designs so vast and ambitious, the means 
of the French were in inverse proportion to the vastness of their territory — 
their entire population being but a tenth of that of the English colonists 
bordering upon the frontiers, and but a twentieth of the entire population of 
English North America. "When to this we add the continued hostility of the 
Five Nations, an alliance with whom was carefully kept up by the English, 
nothing but the utmost skill and energy, it was evident, could enable the Cana- 
dians to stand their ground against such an overwhelming superiority. Urged 
by these considerations, the French king had made an offer to William III. 
that his own colonies, and the British, should remain neutral during the 
war. This however was rejected, and thus the French and English colonies 
became involved in bloodshed, not by disputes of their own, but by the hos- 
tilities of their parent states, who infused into them their own political pas- 
sions and national animosities, which fell unhappily upon a soil already too 
well prepared to receive them. 

As soon as war was openly proclaimed, the Baron Castin, whose house had 
been plundered by Governor Andros, found it an easy task to urge the In- 
dians of the eastern states to hostilities. At the close of the war with Philip 
of Pokanoket some thirteen years before, a body of three hundred Indians had 
been treacherously seized and sold into slavery, after they had agreed to 
peace. This transaction took place at the house of Major Waldron, at Dover, 
and a deep scheme was now laid by the Indians to avenge it. The few houses 
of that village, exposed as they were in the midst of a frontier wilderness to 
sudden surprise, were surrounded by wooden Avails, the gates through which 
were sedulously barred and bolted, but, owing to long security, no watch was 
kept. Suspicions of some sinister proceeding on the part of the Indians had 
been thrown out to A^'aldron, which however he only derided, merely telling 
those who suggested them " to go and plant their pumpkins, for he would 
tell them when the Indians would break out. On the very eve of the attack, 
being told with uneasiness that the toAvn was full of them, he replied, " that 
he knew tlie Indians very well, and there was no danger whatever." 

It was a common practice during times of peace for the Indians, who traded 
with the inhabitants, to seek for and obtain a night's lodging. On this even- 
ing two squaws applied for leave to sleep by the hearth, which was readily 
granted at "VYaldron's and all the other houses save one. When the house- 
hold was sunk in sleep they arose, unbarred the gates, and giving an appointed 
signal, the Indians quietly stole in, set a guard at the door, and rushed into an 
inner room in which the Major slept. The old man, now aged eighty, aroused 
by the noise, started up, and seizing his sword bravely drove his assailants 
back through one or two apartments, vintil stunned by a blow from a hatchet, 
he was secured and dragged out, and seated in an arm-chair upon the hall 
table. Who shall judge Indians now ? insultingly asked his captors ; and then 
each man drawing his knife, and scoring deep gashes across his naked breast, 
exclaimed — " Thus I cross out my account." His person was then cruelly 
mangled, and as^ sj)ent with agony and loss of blood, he rolled heavily from the 



1689.] INSTANCE OF GRATITUDE IN THE INDIANS. 185 

table, one of his tormentors held his OAvn sword under him as he fell, which 
terminated his cruel agonies. They also killed his son-in-law and twenty 
other persons, set the village on fire, and carried. off a body of prisoners. 

Even amidst this scene of Indian revenge occurred a singular instance of 
their gratitude. The very night of the murder, an English woman wae re- 
turning with her children to the village in a boat, and knocked at Waldron's 
house for shelter. No ansAver being returned, one -of the party climbed the 
wall and found that the place h-ad been surprised by the Indians. The poor 
woman, transfixed with terror, was unable to fly, but desired her children to 
make their escape ; and at last found strength to crawl into a covert of bushes. 
In this situation she saw an Indian coming towards her with a pistol, who, 
struck with her appearance, scanned her still more closely, and then suddenly 
returned to his comrades. She watched the burning of the village, and waited 
until the Indians had retired, when at length venturing forth, what was her 
astonishment to find her own house had been spared amidst the general con- 
flagration. Upon that seizure of the Indians, which had now been so dearly 
avenged, she had concealed one of the fugitives in her house, a service which 
he had promised never to forget. And he was one of that very party who sur- 
prised the place, and through him she had become known to the greater part 
of his companions. 

Some time previously to the outbreak of hostilities between the French and 
English colonies, the Marquis de Denonville was governor of Canada. His 
efforts to reduce the Iroquois had been entirely abortive, and by an act of 
treachery, no less a blunder than a crime, he had inflamed still further their 
already bitter hostility. He had employed two influential missionaries to 
induce the principal Iroquois chiefs to agree to a peaceful interview, when he 
ordered them to be seized and transported to France as galley slaves. The 
poor missionaries, who had been unwitting agents in this nefarious plot, were 
exposed to the greatest danger, but the magnanimity of the Indians refused 
to make the innocent suffer for the guilty. The sachems called the mis- 
sionary Lamberville into their presence, and after eloquently setting forth 
their wrongs, addressed him in these words : 

" Thou art now our enemy, thou and thy race. We have held counsel, and 
cannot resolve to treat thee as an enemy. We know thy heart had no share 
in this treason, though thou wast its tool. We are not unjust : we will not 
punish thee being innocent, and hating the crime as much as we do ourselves. 
But depart from, among us: there are some who might seek thy blood, and 
when our young men sing the war song, we may be no longer able to protect 
thee." They then dismissed him, with guides who conducted him to a place 
of safety. Hostilities continued with unabated fury, but the handful of French, 
unable to contend with the hosts of their Indian enemies, were compelled to a 
humiliating and uncertain peace, and to restore the captives Avhom he had so 
treacherously entrapped. Such was the posture of affairs when the war 
commenced between France and England, and a body of twelve hundred 
Iroquois burst suddenly like a cloud of locusts upon the island of Montreal. 

2 B 



186 DESTR UCTION OF MONTREAL BY THE INDIANS. [1690. 

Their first attack was made at La Chine, where they rdassacred two hundred 
.people, and burned the village ; and thence advancing to Montreal itself, made 
themselves masters of the forts, and after marking their destructive inroad 
with fire and blood, at length re-embarked with their canoes laden with 
plunder, and carrying off" two hundred captives. In the panic of the moment 
Forts Niagara and Frontenac were abandoned and razed, and the western 
lakes were entirely abandon-ed to the Iroquois and their allies. 

At this critical period Denonville was recalled, and Count Frontenac re- 
turned from France with the reappointment of Governor, and considerable 
reinforcements and supplies, together with the Indians who had been so trea- 
cherously seized by his predecessor, whose good-will he had acquired, and 
through whose infiuence he hoped to obtain a favourable negotiation with their 
brethren. His measures savoured rather of the vigour and elasticity of 
youth, than of a man nearly seventy, and he alarmed the English by a plan 
for invading New York by land and sea. Finding Montreal in ashes upon 
his arrival, and the power of the Iroquois, instigated and supported by the 
English, in the ascendant, he promptly determined upon a bold though cruel 
diversion of the war into the enemy's country, and forthwith organized three 
separate expeditions to penetrate and ravage the English territory at as many 
difierent points. 

The first expedition, against Schenectady, started from Cagnawaga, nearly 
opposite to Montreal. It numbered one hundred and ten men, consisting of a 
body of Frenchmen with a number of Mohawk Indians who had been converted 
by the Jesuits, and who, as being acquainted with the Dutch settlements, were 
now sent forth under their auspices, as guides and agents in the work of de- 
struction. The party was commanded by French officers. They set out in 
tne depth of winter, to penetrate the long and dreary wilderness intervening 
between them and their destined victims, toiling through the heavy snows in 
which the forests were buried, wading through icy streams, and enduring 
every hardship for two and twenty days, until they reached the vicinity of 
the Mohawk valley. Spies were now sent forward to reconnoitre the devoted 
village, who returned in safety, and after an harangue from their chiefs urging 
them to a deep vengeance upon " the enemies of God," for the wrongs they 
had suffered from the English and their allies, nursing their fell purpose, they 
awaited the approach of darkness. 

Schenectady was then a small village, in form an oblong square, surrounded 
by a stockade and entered by two gates. Their distance from the French fron- 
tier, and the severity of the season, had lulled the svispicion of the inhabitants, 
and they were buried in the sweet and deep sleep of a winter's night, when 
the horrid war-whoop of their enemies thrilled through every heart. It was 
too late to think of concerted resistance. The French and Indians had stolen 
into the town in several bodies, the door of every dwelling was instantly be- 
set and burst open, and amidst the shrieks of women and children every 
atrocity was perpetrated that the vengeful cruelty of the Indian savage could 
suggest. Men, women, and children fell under the tomahawk in a promis- 



1690.] CRUELTIES OF THE VICTORIOUS INDIANS. 187 

cuous massacre, the village was set on fire, and by the flames of their own homes, 
a small body of miserable half-naked fugitives hurried away, in the midst 
of a driving snow-storm, to Albany, spreading terror and confusion among 
the exposed frontiers of New York. 

Another party, led by Hertel de Rouville, consisting of but fifty men, made 
their way by the St. Francis and the Connecticut valley to Salmon Falls in the 
Piscataqua, which they surprised and burned, killing most of the male inha- 
bitants, and driving before them into the wilderness a crowd of unhappy pri- 
soners. Wretched women, dropping from fatigue, had their sufferings ended 
by the tomahawk ; while others, still more miserable, saw their children mur- 
dered before their face. — But who save a mother can tell a mother's sufferings ? 
Let one dark page from the journal of a captive suffice to show the unutterable 
miseries of this border warfare. 

" The Indians," says this poor woman, " when they had flogger' me away 
along with them, took my oldest boy, a lad of about five years of age, along 
with them, for he was still at the door by my side. My middle little boy, who 
was about three years of age, had by this time obtained a situation by the fire 
in the house, and was crying bitterly to me not to go, and making bitter com- 
plaints of the depredations of the savages. 

" But these monsters were not willing to let the child remain behind them; 
they took him by the hand to drag him along with them, but he was so very 
unwilling to go, and made such a noise by crying, that they took him up by 
the feet, and dashed his brains out against the threshold of the door. They 
then scalped and stabbed him, and left him for dead. When I witnessed this 
inhuman butchery of my own child, I gave a most indescribable and terrific 
scream, and felt a dimness come over my eyes next to blindness, and my senses 
were nearly gone. The savage then gave me a blow across my head and face, 
and brought me to my sight and recollection again. During the whole of this 
agonizing scene, I kept my infant in my arms. 

" As soon as their murder was effected, they marched me along to the top of 
the bank. Here I beheld another hard scene, for as soon as we had landed, 
my little boy, who was still mourning and lamenting about his little brother, 
and who complained that he was injured by the fall in descending the bank, 
was murdered. 

" One of the Indians ordered me along, probably that I should not see the 
horrid deed about to be perpetrated. The other then took his tomahawk 
from his side, and with this instrument of death killed and scalped Mm. 
When I beheld this second scene of inhuman butchery, I fell to the ground 
senseless, with my infant in my arms, it being under, and its little hands in 
the hair of my head. How long I remained in this state of insensibility, I 
know not. 

" The first thing I remember was my raising my head from the ground, 
and my feeling myself exceedingly overcome with sleep. I cast my eyes 
around, and saw the scalp of my dear little boy, fresh bleeding from his head, 
in the hand of one of the savages, and sunk down to the earth again, upon 

2 B 2 



188 THE ENGLISH COL ONIES OPP OSE THE FRENCH. [1 G90. 

my infant cliild. The first thing I remember after witnessing this spectacle 
of woe, was the severe blows I was receiving from the hands of the savages, 
though at this time I was unconscious of the injury I was sustaining. After a 
severe castigation, they assisted me in getting up, and supported me when up. 

" In the morning one of them left us, to watch the trail or path we had 
come, to see if any white people were pursuing us. During the absence of 
the Indian who was the one that claimed me, the other, who remained with 
me, and who was the murderer of my last boy, took from his bosom his scalp 
and prepared a hoop, and stretched the scalp upon it. Those mothers who 
have not seen the like done by one of the scalps of their own children, (and 
few, if any, ever had so much misery to endure,) will be able to form but faint 
ideas of the feelings which then harrowed up my soul ! " 

Such are the horrors of a successful foray ! Hertel, having entirely carried 
out his work of destruction, soon after fell in with a third party of his con- 
federates, in concert with whom he made an attack on Casco, the garrison of 
which were obliged to surrender as prisoners of war. 

These daring and successful inroads led the English colonies for the first time 
to summon a congress, and concert a plan of offensive operations. Massachu- 
setts, the nearest to the scene of action, issued circulars to all the other States 
as far as Maryland, inviting them to send deputies to New York, then under 
the provisional government of the unfortunate Leisler. At this congress two 
plans were formed for the invasion of Canada. The first was originated by 
the successes of Sir William Phipps, a native of Pemaquid, who by his enter- 
prise and good fortune had obtained, together with considerable wealth, the 
honour of knighthood from King James II. At the outbreak of hostilities he 
had invaded the French province of Acadia with a small fleet, and made him- 
self master of Port Royal, which, as already narrated, had been discovered 
and founded by Poutrincourt. He was now invested with the command of a 
squadron of thirty-two vessels and two thousand men, destined for the reduc- 
tion of Quebec, while Winthrop, son of the late governor of Connecticut, was 
to advance on Montreal by land. 

Both operations were destined to prove entirely abortive. The land forces, 
divided into three bodies, were all defeated in detail by Frontenac. Scarcely 
had he repulsed this formidable attack, than he received the information, 
brought across the wilderness by an Indian runner, of the meditated attack 
upon Quebec, and with surprising energy reached that stronghold just three 
days before the fleet, under Phipps, which had been nine weeks on the difli- 
cult and dangerous passage, made its appearance before the walls. He had 
calculated on surprising the place, and found it, almost impregnable by nature, 
already placed in a posture of defence by the vigour and activity of the 
veteran Frenchman, Chagrined as he was, he determined to put a bold front 
upon the business, and imperiously summoned Frontenac to surrender in the 
name of King William of England, demanding his positive answer within 
an hour. The British officer who bore the summons was ushered blind- 
fold into the presence of Frontenac and his fellow nobles in the council-room 



1690.] SIR WILLIAM P HIP PS FAILS IN TAKING Q UEBEC, 189 

of the "castle of Quebec. Read your message, said the old Irencliman. 
Having obeyed, the Englishman laid his watch on the table with these words — 
" It is now ten : I await your answer for an hour." The council started from 
their seats in wrath, while the old nobleman, scarcely able to speak for the 
indignation that choked him, replied, I do not acknowledge King William, 
and I well know that the Prince of Orange is an usurper, who has violated the 
more sacred rights of blood and religion. — The British officer requested that 
this answer should be put in writing. — " I will answer your master at the can- 
non's mouth," replied the irritated Frenchman, " that he may learn that a man 
of my rank is not to be summoned in this manner." The veteran commandant 
proved as good as his Avord, and galLantly repulsed the repeated and daring 
attacks of Phipps, who was at length compelled to retire with shame and dis- 
appointment ; and after losing several of his ships among the dangerous shoals 
of the St. Lawrence, arrived at Boston with his damaged fleet. On his arrival 
the treasury was empty, and as the troops threatened a riot, the colonial govern- 
ment found it necessary to meet the emergency by issuing the first paper money 
ever used in America. Frontenac wrote home to France in triumph, and to 
commemorate his brave defence of Canada, the king ordered a medal to be 
struck with this inscription : " Francia in novo orbe victrix : Kebeca Liberata. 
— A. D. M.D.c.x.c," while a church was built in the loAver town, and dedicated 
to " Notre Dame de la Victoire." Shortly after, a French fleet retook Port 
Royal, and thus regained possession of Acadia. 

While the New England colonies were involved in this desolating struggle, 
they were at the same time convulsed with internal miseries. The belief in 
witchcraft was at that time almost universal in England, and is by no means 
extinct there even in the present day, as any one knows who has penetrated 
the remoter nooks and corners of the island, into which the progress of edu- 
cation is slow to make its way. This infernal art was rendered a capital offence, 
particularly by a statute of James I., who had himself written a treatise on the 
art of detecting witches. During the Long Parliament a vast number of per- 
sons fell victims to the popular delusion. Shortly after the restoration Sir 
Matthew Hale, revered no less in the colonies than the mother country for 
piety and wisdom., had adjudged to death two poor old women in Suffolk, for 
this imaginary crime. Witch stories and printed narratives were universally 
current. It cannot excite surprise then that a people like that of New Eng- 
land, whose temperament was naturally serious, to whom every incident of 
life "was a special providence, and who were filled with an undoubting faith 
in every letter of Scripture, should have been predisposed to enter deeply 
into so congenial an illusion. 

For some years previously instances of supposed witchcraft had occurred, 
and one or two persons had been executed. For nearly thirty years, however, 
no one had suffered death, when in 1685 the excitement was suddenly re- 
vived by a very circumstantial account of all the previous cases. In 1687, 
four of the children of Jghn Goodwin, a grave man and a good liver, to the 
great consternation of the neighbourhood, became suddenly bewitched. The 



190 WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND. [1688. 

eldest had accused a laundress of stealing the family linen ; her mother, a 
■wild Irishwoman, resented the accusation ; and thereupon the girl with her 
sisters fell into fits, purred like cats, affected to be deaf and blind, made strange 
contortions, and uttered fearful screams. "Whether the imagination of these 
children had been affected by hearing of diabolical possession, or whether they 
were guilty of a wilful fraud, has been disputed ; we are inclined to lean 
to the former supposition. Cotton Mather, one of the leading ministers, a 
learned and good man, but of fanatical temperament, a narrow understanding, 
and immeasurable vanity, went to prayer with others of his brethren by their 
side, when they became deaf and blind, and unable to read the Assembly's Cate- 
chism and Cotton's Milk for Babes, but could read the Oxford Jests, popish and 
quaker books, and the Common Prayer, without difficulty. By the strenuous 
efforts of the clergymen, the youngest child was at length delivered, but the rest 
persevering in their delusion or hypocrisy, the old Irishwoman was appre- 
hended on the charge of bewitching them. Terrified and bewildered, the poor 
creature gave such incoherent replies that many deemed her " crazed in her 
intellectuals," yet as the physicians declared her to be " compos mentis," she 
was speedily condemned and executed. Cotton Mather now took home the 
eldest girl to his house, where she continued to exhibit the same extraordinary 
phenomena, which the credulous minister set himself seriously to study, and 
then put forth a sermon and narrative under the title of " Memorable Provi- 
dences relating to Witchcrafts and Possessions." The times, in his idea, were evil, 
and there was a tendency in many minds to recoil from the ultra rigour of faith 
and practice into the opposite extreme. " There are multitudes of Sadducees," 
complains the preface, "in our days, and we shall come, in the opinion of these 
mighty acute philosophers, to credit nothing but what we can see and feel. How 
much this fond opinion hath gotten ground in this debauched age is awfully ob- 
servable. God is therefore pleased, besides his witness borne to this truth in 
sacred writ, to suffer devils to do such things in the world, as shall stop the 
mouths of gainsayers and extort a confession from them." And as Mather came 
forward to throw down the gauntlet to the sceptics, not only as a minister of 
God, but also an eye-witness of the facts narrated, he declared that he should 
henceforth consider the " denial of devils, or of witches," as proofs of " ignor- 
ance, incivility, and dishonest impudence" in any who should be so hardy as 
to venture it. 

The bewitched girls at length became restored, and made a public profes- 
sion of religion on the ground of the trials they had endured ; and we are 
assured by Hutchinson, who knew one of them many years afterwards, that she 
never uttered any acknowledgment of fraud in the transaction. Cotton's book 
made a great noise, being reprinted in England, with a preface by Kichard 
Baxter, who affirmed that " the evidence was so convincing, he must be a very 
obstinate Sadducee who would not believe it." Thus a popular infatuation, 
which might have died away of itself, was, by the fanatical zeal of the 
ministers, kept alive, and ultimately inflamed to a fearful pitch. 

Pour years after, a similar scene was renewed in the family of Parris, the 



1G92.] THE MINISTERS ADD TO THE EXCITEMENT. 191 

minister of Salem, wliose church, as it seems, was at the time rent by bitter 
disputes. Some of his children exhibited the same symptoms ; and Tituba, an 
old Indian servant, who had used some superstitious rites to discover the witch, 
was herself accused by the children, and being well scourged by her master, 
confessed herself the guilty agent. A fast day was appointed by the neigh- 
bouring ministers, among whom appeared Cotton Mather, glorying in the con- 
firmation of his previous statements. The excitement rapidly spread — the 
girls accused others — the ministers implicitly received their statements. 
The divisions among the people, if indeed they did not prompt to accusations 
wilfully false, at least facilitated the belief of them. Parris selected for his 
Sunday's text the words, " Have I not chosen you twelve, and one of you is 
a devil?" At this a sister of Sarah Cloyce, one of the accused, being of- 
fended, rose up and left the place, and was herself immediately denounced 
and. sent to prison as an accomplice. 

The matter had now grown to such a height, that the magistrates, headed by 
the deputy governor of the state, held a judicial court in the meeting-house 
of Salem. Parris, and a fellow-clergyman, Noyes, were active in discovering 
the witches and suggesting fresh accusations. The afflicted were placed on 
one hand, and the accused on the other, the latter being held by the arms 
lest they should inflict torment on the former, Avho declared themselves 
haunted by their sj^ectres, and solicited to subscribe a covenant with the 
devil, and on their refusal pricked and injured. The husband of Elizabeth 
Procter, one of the accused, having boldly accompanied her into court, the 
possessed cried out upon him also. There is goodman Procter going to take 
up Mrs. Pope's feet, cries one of them, and her feet are immediately taken up. 
He is going to Mrs. Pope, cries another, and straightway Mrs. Pope falls into 
fits. One Bishop, a farmer, had brought round a possessed servant by the 
application of a horsewhip, and had rashly hinted that he could with the like 
remedy cure the whole company of the afflicted. For this indecent scoffing he 
soon found himself in prison. Between fanaticism and terror the minds of 
the accused became unhinged; many, staggered by the results ascribed to their 
agency, for a while believed themselves to be what they were called ; and 
others, finding no safety but in confession, gave fraudulent and circumstantial 
narratives of interviews with the devil, and of riding throvigh the air on a 
broomstick ; and these confessions, reacting upon minds already fully per- 
suaded of the reality of the crime, tended to fortify them still further in their 
delusion, and to give birth to a still widening circle of accusations and con- 
fessions. Nearly a hundred persons were already thrown into pjison, and 
the excitement Avas still rapidly on the increase. 

It was at this crisis that Sir William Phipps arrived from England with the 
new charter. He had been a parishioner of Cotton Mather's, and owed his 
appointment as governor to the favour of Increase Mather, his father, who 
had been allowed to nominate the officers for the crown. Under such influ- 
ence, as may be supposed, the new governor, far from taking steps to coun- 
teract the delusion, and secure an impartial and searching examination, first 



192 THE EXECUTION OF GEORGE BURROWS. [1G92. 

put tlie prisoners In irons, and organized a special court for their trial at 
Salem, over which presided Stoughton, the lieutenant-governor, a man fully 
partaking in the popular infatuation. The work was hurried on as vigor- 
ously as the ministers could have desired, several old women, and others, 
upon evidence no better than has been cited, being forthwith condemned 
and hanged. Of these, all died solemnly persisting in their innocence. 
One woman, Rebecca Nurse, had been declared innocent, but her accuser 
had cried out at this acquittal. Parris, who had made up his mind as to 
her guilt, preached and prayed against her, until a fresh verdict was ob- 
tained; and after being led in chains to the meeting-house, and formally excom- 
municated, she was hanged with the others. Some few spirits dared to resist 
the general delusion, and hurl back defiance into the teeth of their accusers. 
You are a witch, you know you are, said the minister Noyes to Sarah Good. 
You are a liar, she retorted, and if you take my life, God will give you blood 
to drink. One wretched man, refusing to plead at all, was pressed to death for 
his contumacy. But the greater part sought safety in confession, or even in 
accusing others. Wives denounced their husbands — children their j)arents. 
The public mind was utterly demoralized with terror. 

One of the most remarkable victims was George Burrows, himself a minister, 
but who had for some reason become unpopular both with his flock and his 
fellow-ministers, whose convictions he had outraged, and whose self-conceit 
he had wounded, by declaring his entire disbelief even of the possibility of the 
crime for which they were putting so many to death. Among other things, he 
Avas accused of displaying preternatural strength — of course through the assist- 
ance of the devil. He staggered, however, the more reasonable portion of the 
crowd present at his execution, by solemnly and fervently rej^eating the Lord's 
Prayer, which it was supposed no wizard could do. The tears of the sjdcc- 
tators began to flow, and they gave signs of rising to stop the execution, but 
the dangerous sympathy was arrested by Cotton Mather, who, riding to and 
fro, carefully reminded them that Burrows had never been properly ordained, 
and that to deceive the unwary, Satan often put on the appearance of the 
children of light. 

Twenty persons had already been executed, others were under sen- 
tence, and the prisons were full, when the court adjourned until November. 
Mather proceeded to improve the interval by publishing his " Wonders of 
the Invisible World ; " in which, although he suggests caution in the dis- 
crimination of evidence, he glories in the good work which he had been 
mainly instrumental in promoting, and evidently anticipated its full and satis- 
factory completion. Here, however, he was destined to be most bitterly mor- 
tified. A reaction soon after commenced, the circle of accusations had 
become too sweeping, even ministers and persons in power were not safe, 
dark hints having been thrown out even against the governor's wife, and one of 
the first magistrates compelled to fly. Moreover the interval had given time 
for men's minds to recover some degree of sanity, and to combine for the 
general safety. Many who had confessed now boldly recanted. Having been 



1692, 93.] END OF THE WITCHCRAFT DELUSION. 193 

suddenly seized as prisoners, as tliey declared, and "by reason of tlie suiden 
surprisal amazed and affrighted out of their reason, and exhorted by their 
nearest relatives to confess, as the only means of saving their lives, they were 
thus persuaded into compliance. And indeed the confession was no other 
than what was suggested to them by some gentlemen, who, telling them that 
they were witches and that they knew they were so, made them think it was 
so ; and their understandings, their reason, their faculties, almost gone, they 
were incapable of judging of their condition ; and being moreover prevented 
by hard measures from making their defence, they confessed to any thing and 
every thing required of them." The scales began to fall from the eyes of a 
deluded people. Remonstrances now poured in against condemning persons 
of exemplary lives upon the idle accusations of children ; the evident partiality 
of the judges, their cruel methods of compelling confessions, their total disre- 
gard of recantations however sincere, at length appeared in their true light. 
On the opening of the next court, the grand jury dismissed the greater part 
of the cases, and those who had already been sentenced to death were re- 
prieved, and ultimately released. Mather was utterly astonished and con- 
founded at this so unlooked-for result, and while, in order to meet the altered 
state of public feeling, in his " Cases of Conscience concerning Witchcraft," 
he admitted that " the most critical and exquisite caution " was required in 
discriminating the genuine offenders, inasmuch as the devil might assume the 
appeai'ance of an innocent person ; yet he stoutly contended for the reality of 
the crime, and the justice which had been dealt both to those who were really 
guilty, and also those who, by confessing falsely, had only got Avhat they de- 
served. He strove hard to discover fresh cases, but received a mortifying check 
by the publications of one Robert Calef, " a coal sent from hell to blacken him, 
a malignant, calumnious, and reproachful man," whose stubborn common 
sense persisted in denying the existence of the crime; he even invited reports 
of " apparitions, possessions, enchantments, and all extraordinary things." 
But, alas ! the excitement was over, the " spirits came not at his call," and 
staggered by the want of answer to his earnest prayers, his OAvn mind was 
in some danger of realizing that reaction which had taken place in others, 
and he feelingly bewails "his temptations to atheism, and to the abandonment 
of all religion as a mere delusion." 

Meanwhile the frontier warfare continued with unabated cruelty on both 
sides. In retaliation for Indian incursions. Colonel Church ravaged one of 
their settlements on the Androscoggen, and made an indiscriminate massacre 
of men, women, and children. Every farm was a fortress, for every forest bore 
a lurking enemy. Men became cruel in self-defence, and even the temper of 
woman, tortured from its natural bias by witnessing such unnatural horrors, 
became tinged with a savage and gloomy heroism. On March 15, 1697, 
the savages burst xipon Haverhill, destroying all before them. One Dustan, 
the father of eight young children, caught the alarm, and flew from his la- 
bours to save them and their mother, who had lain in but a few days, and 
with her nurse was at that moment within doors. Hurrying away his unpro- 

2 c 



194 DUN8TAN'8 WIFE ESCAPES FROM THE INDIANS. [1697. 

tected children, with directions to hasten to a fortified house, he rode towards 
his home, but before he could gain the threshold, a sudden rush of the In- 
dians compelled him to fly, and leave his wife at their mercy. In this state of 
distraction he flew after his children, resolving to save, to use the language 
of the narrative, " that which in his extremity he should find his affections to 
pitch most upon, and leave the rest unto the care of the Divine providence." 
But when he overtook his terrified babes, clinging to him for succour, he felt 
that to die with all of them were better than escape with one alon?, and 
placing them before him, he continued to cover their retreat and fire upon his 
pursuers, until happily he succeeded in making good his escape to a place of 
safety. 

" But his house," says the old account, "must in the mean time have more 
dismal tragedies acted in it." The nurse, trying to escape with the new-born 
infant, fell into the hands of the savages, who, rushing into the house, bade the 
mother arise instantly, while they plundered the house and afterwards set it 
on fire. They then hurried her away before them, together with a number of 
other captives, but ere they had gone many steps, dashed out the brains of the 
infant against a tree. The mother's heart would have sunk, but she thought 
of her surviving children, and summoned up strength to march before the 
savages towards the Canadian frontier. She saw her companions, as they sunk 
one by one with exhaustion, brained by the tomahawk of the savages, and 
their scalps taken as trophies to the Christian governor of Canada. After 
sojourning, in prayerfulness and anguish of spirit, with the Indian family to 
which she was allotted, she pursued with them her onward course towards an 
Indian rendezvous, where, as she was jestingly told, she would have to run the 
gauntlet through a row of savage tormentors. When they marked the dejec- 
tion of her spirits they would say to her, " What need you trouble yourself? 
If your God will have you delivered, you will be so ! " A desperate resolution 
took possession of her mind — might she not lawfully slay the murderers of 
her babe, effect thus her own deliverance, and rejoin her husband and chil- 
dren, if haply they were yet alive ? One night, on an island in the IVIerrimac, 
a little before daybreak, w^hile the Indians were heavy with sleep, she en- 
couraged the nurse, and a captive lad who accompanied her, to nerve them- 
selves to the work of retribution. There was but one fear, lest the softness 
of their sex should overcome them at the decisive moment, and they should 
only wound, not kill the Indians. But they had already been familiar with 
the sight of blood, and knew that their own lives depended upon their success. 
They armed themselves with tomahawks, and struck, with convulsive energy, 
blow upon blow, until of the twelve sleepers ten lay dead at their feet, only 
one squaw, already wounded, and a boy escaping into the forest. They 
then took the scalps of the ten Indians whom they had slain, threw themselves 
into a canoe, and descended the stream to the English settlements, where 
they were received and honoured with the honour due to weak women > 
who in these fearful times knew how to rise superior to the natural infirmity 
of their sex. 



1707.] THE SECOND INTERCOLONIAL WAR. 195 

"With marvellous energy, but witli varying success, Frontenac still continued 
to struggle against the Iroquois. Although now seventy-four years old, he 
personally conducted an expedition, and carried the wars into the territory of 
the Onondagas and Oneidas, cutting up their corn and burning their villages. 
It was a melancholy spectacle to see a man of noble descent, and of heroic 
spirit, himself tottering on the brink of the grave, giving his sanction to torture 
an Indian prisoner, as aged as himself, with all the refinements of savage 
cruelty ! " A most singular spectacle indeed it was," says the missionary 
Charlevoix, (whose moral sense seems to have been blinded to the sense of 
these and other atrocities, Avhen perpetrated in the interest of his own party,) 
*'to see upwards of four hundred tormentors raging about a decrepit old mah, 
from whom, by all their tortures, they could not extract a single groan, and 
who, as long as he lived, did not cease to reproach them with being slaves of 
the French, of whom he afiected to speak with the utmost disdain. On re- 
ceiving at last his death-stroke, he exclaimed, " Why shorten my life, better 
improve this opportunity of learning how to die like a man ! " 

This first intercolonial war, a desultory and savage struggle, which left 
matters pretty much as they were, was at length brought to a close in 169T, 
by the Peace of Kyswick. 

The temporary repose of North America from the horrors of an inter- 
colonial warfare, originating in the rivalries of European powers, was soon 
again disturbed by the war of the Spanish succession, in which William 111. 
and Queen Anne were opposed to the French and Spaniards. Hostilities 
first broke out in South Carolina, where Moore, the governor, who strove to 
enrich himself by kidnapping Indians to sell them for slaves, animated by this 
motive, and the hope of plunder, assaulted the Spanish settlement of St. 
Augustine, where, since the foundation of this ancient town by Melandez, the 
Spaniards had made but little progress in the work of colonizing the country. 
Moore easily succeeded in taking the town, but the Spanish troops retiring 
into the fort, and intelligence of the inroad being conveyed to the French 
at Mobile, two ships of war speedily appeared before St. Augustine, and 
forced Moore to a hurried retreat ; and this abortive attempt led only to debt 
and an issue of paper money. Not discouraged, however, Moore undertook a 
new expedition against Florida, fell suddenly upon the settlements of those 
Indians who had been half-civilized by the Spaniards, and whose vacated 
territory was made over to the Seminole allies of the English. On the other 
hand Charleston, menaced by a French and Spanish squadron, was bravely 
and successfully defended by the governor. Sir Nathaniel Johnson. 

The whole weight of the war fell upon the exposed northern frontier of 
Massachusetts. The Marquis de Vaudreuil, who now succeeded Frontenac in 
the government of Canada, having conciliated the Five Nations, was at liberty 
to concentrate his energies against the north-east colonists. Unfortunately, they 
had already provoked hostilities, by plundering the son of the Baron de 
Castin on the Penobscot river. A body of French Canadians and Indians, 
under the command of Hertel de Rouville, making their way across the wide 

2 c 2 



196 ATROCITIES IN THE NORTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. [1708. 

wilderness that separated the St. Lawrence from the Connecticut, stole upon 
the village of Deerfield in the dead of a winter's night, when all the inhabitants 
were buried in sleep. The frontier village was surrounded by a palisade, 
but the snow drifts had rendered it useless, the invaders stole into the de- 
fenceless village and renewed the same horrible scenes that had so lately 
been enacted at Schenectady. The village was burned, nearly fifty of the 
inhabitants murdered, and a hundred more driven through the snow-covered 
forests to Canada, a distance of nearly three hundred miles. As the women 
and children sunk with fatigue their sufferings were ended by the tomahawk. 
In reprisal for these atrocities the English offered a premium for the scalps of 
the Indians, and the whole frontier was a scene of bloody and barbarous re- 
crimination. Next year Hertel de Rouville set forth on a second predatory 
expedition, with the view of surprising Portsmouth, but not being able to 
obtain some expected reinforcements, fell again upon the little village of 
Haverhill. One dreadful circumstance attending these acts of murder and 
incendiarism was, that those who perpetrated them, misled by sectarian hatred, 
believed that they were doing God service. The Frenchman and his con- 
federates, after piously joining in pi-ayer, entered the village a little before 
sun-rise, and began the wonted work of destruction. Fifty of the inhabitants 
Avere killed by the hatchet, or burned in the flames of their own homesteads. 
The first panic having subsided, a bold defence was made. Davis, an intrepid 
man, concealed himself behind a barn, and by beating violently on it, and 
calling out to his imaginary succours, Come on ! Come on ! as if already on 
the spot, succeeded in alarming the invaders. Here occurred another re- 
markable instance of female energy and heroism, called forth by the terrible 
emergencies of the period. One Swan, and his wife, seeing two Indians ap- 
proach their dwelling, to save themselves and children, planted themselves 
against the narrow doorway, and maintained it with desperate energy against 
them, till their strength began to fail. The husband, unable to bear the 
pressure, cried to his wife that it was useless any longer to resist, but she, 
seeing but one of the half-naked Indians was already forcing himself into the 
doorway, seized a sharp-pointed spit, drove it with her whole strength into his 
body, and thus compelled himself and his fellow savage to retreat. The alarm 
being given, it was with some difficulty that the invaders contrived to effect 
their escape from the scene of their barbarous, and as regards the issue of the 
war, purposeless, and ineffectual outrage. There were yet a few minds who 
rose superior to the general feeling of mutual revenge. Such was Major 
Schuyler, who had already used his influence to prevent the Christian Indians 
from attacking the settlements of New England. In a letter to the governor 
of Canada, he declared it to be his duty towards God and his neighbour to 
prevent, if possible, these barbarous and heathen cruelties. " ]\Iy heart swells 
with indignation," exclaims this gallant man, " when I think that a war be- 
tween Christian princes, bound to the exactest laws of honour and generosity, 
which their noble ancestors have illustrated by brilliant examj^les, is de- 
generating into a savage and boundless butchery. These are not the methods 



1711.] THE WAR ENDED BY THE PEACE OF UTRECHT. 197 

for terminating the "vvar. "Would that all the -world thought with me on this 
subject." 

Dudley, the governor of Massachusetts, had made two abortive attempts 
for the seizure of Port Royal, and the territory of Acadia. An earnest peti- 
tion was now made to Queen Anne, to terminate this " consuming war " of 
little less than twenty years' duration, by the final conquest of all the French 
possessions. All the northern states joined in raising and equipping troops, 
and agents were sent over to urge the co-operation of the English government. 
Their application was successful, and a fleet of six English ships appeared in 
the harbour of Boston, which, with a considerable force raised by the colonists, 
proceeded, under the command of Nicholson, to invest Port Royal, which was 
in no condition to ofier a protracted resistance. The French were obliged to 
capitulate, and the conquered fortress, in honour of the English queen, receiv- 
ed the name of Annapolis, which it has ever since retained. Nicholson, flushed 
with success, now returned to England, and was fortunate enough to obtain 
from government the means for eflecting a more important triumph. A fleet 
of fifteen ships of the line, conveying five regiments of Marlborough, veteran 
troops, were shortly afterwards despatched to Boston. The plan originally 
formed for a simultaneous attack upon Canada by land and sea was now 
renewed. A body of fifteen hundred men, raised by New York, Connecticut, 
and New Jersey, was assembled at Albany under the command of Nicholson, 
with five hundred Indian allies, to march on Montreal; while the fleet, with 
seven thousand men on board, proceeded to invest Quebec. 

Intelligence of this expected attack soon reached Quebec, where prepara- 
tions were made for a determined resistance. The inhabitants were daily on 
the stretch for the appearance of the formidable armament, which however was 
never destined to arrive. The fleet, commanded by Sir Hovenden Walker, 
while ascending the St. Lawrence, became entangled ons thick night among 
some shoals and islands. The pilots advised one course, the obstinate admiral 
another, and he was yet disputing with an officer on board, when the cry of 
"breakers" was heard, and it was only by putting his ship about instantly 
that she narrowly escaped. As soon as daylight appeared, it Avas ascertained 
that eight of the vessels had been lost, and nearly a thousand men had 
perished. The admiral hereupon immediately set sail for England, leaving 
the colonial vessels to return to Boston. 

The second intercolonial Avar terminated by the Peace of Utrecht, the terms 
of which were advantageous as regards America, conceding to her entire 
possession of Hudson Bay and the fur trade, the supremacy in the NeAvfound- 
land fisheries, and the territory of Acadia, Avhich noAv received the name of 
Nova Scotia. 

While the war thus terminated Avas yet in progress, internal disturbances of 
a serious nature had broken out in Carolina. The Tuscarora Indians, re- 
senting the advance of a body of German emigrants upon their hunting 
grounds, seized and burned the smweyor under Avhose authority the lands 
had been appointed, and commenced an exterminating attack upon the strag- 



198 MURDER OF SEBASTIAN RASLES. [1724. 

gling settlers. The inhabitants of North Carolina, divided among themselves 
by political feuds, did not at first repel these aggressions with vigour, but Avith 
the arrival of succours from South Carolina, the war was carried on with in- 
discriminating revenge, and many Indians, guiltless of participation in the 
attack upon the whites, were carried off as slaves. The conflict terminated 
in the usual way, the Tuscaroras were driven from their old forests, and took 
refuge with the Five Nations, and their vacated lands were thrown open to 
the onward advance of the whites. 

Although peace was now established, the uncertainty of the line of frontier 
kindled disputes with the French and their Indian allies, which led to bloody 
acts of mutual hostility. The territory between the Kennebec and St. Croix 
rivers was, in pursuance of the late treaty, claimed by Massachusetts, and 
New England settlers and traders had re-established themselves within its 
confines. The Abenaki Indians, on being informed by the governor of 
Canada that no direct cession of their country had been made by treaty, re- 
solved to maintain their ground, in which patriotic determination they were 
encouraged by the Catholic missionaries. The venerable Sebastian Rasles 
had for more than a quarter of a century laboured among them, display- 
ing all the best virtues of his order, and a village and chapel had grown up in the 
midst of the forest. As to his influence over the Indians was attributed their 
persevering determination to maintain their right to the soil, the seizure 
of his person accordingly became an object of the English; and after many 
acts of hostility, an attempt was made to surprise him, but he succeeded in 
making his escape. Another secret expedition, animated at once by the de- 
sire of acquiring fresh territory, and of destroying French and Catholic 
influence, was shortly afterwards organized for the same purpose. A party 
from New England, emulating the bloody exploits of Hertel de Rouville, 
stole through the woods to the village of Norridgewock, a village then sur- 
' rounded by a stockade, and containing a Catholic chapel and the dwelling- 
houses of Rasles and his converts. They advanced in profound silence, but 
one of the Indians having given the alarm, some fifty or sixty ran forward to 
meet the invaders, and cover the retreat of the aged and defenceless. They 
hastily discharged their guns at the English, who replied by a murderous volley, 
which put the Indians to the rout. The village and church were soon wrapt 
in flames, and an indiscriminate massacre of the Indians took place. The poor 
priest fell with his slaughtered flock, either shot down as he ran forward to 
draw upon himself the vengeance of the invaders, or, what is more improba- 
ble, while defending himself from his own house. As soon as the perpetrators 
of this outrage had retired, the Indians returned to the desolated village, 
and their first care, while the women sought plants and herbs proper to heal 
the wounded, was to shed tears over the corpse of their beloved missionary. 
They found him pierced with shot, his scalp taken off", his skull fractured 
with hatchets, his mouth and eyes filled with dirt, the bones of his legs 
broken, and his body shockingly mutilated. This barbarous spirit was en- 
couraged by a premium of a hundred pounds for every Indian scalp, and on 



1733.] THE THIRD INTERCOLONIAL WAR. 199 

sucli terms, one John Lovewell soon succeeded in raising a company of hunt- 
ers, and carried on his operations with some success, disj^laying in triumphal 
procession the scalps he had taken, elevated on lofty poles, but at length met 
with that doom which so often overtakes the shedder of blood. While hunt- 
ing the Indians, he was himself surprised and shot with several of his con- 
federate scalp-hunters, among whom was Mr. Fry, the chaplain of Andovcr, 
who had himself killed and scalped an Indian in the heat of the action. The 
Indians retorted by burning frontier villages and farms. This dispute, which 
had well nigh involved all the northern colonies and Indians in a fresh Avar of 
mutual extermination, was at length found to be so unprofitable to both 
parties that they gladly agreed to a peace. Every such struggle however 
had but the same result, that of gradually operating the extermination of the 
weaker party, and opening their country to the further advance of the 
white men. 

The third intercolonial war originated in the endeavour, on the part of 
Spain, to maintain that jealous system of colonial monopoly, which she had 
adopted in its utmost rigour, and in which she was imitated, with less stringency, 
by the French and English. The latter had acquired by the treaty of Utrecht 
the privilege of transporting a certain number of slaves annually to the 
Spanish colonies, under cover of which a wide- spread system of smug- 
gling had been introduced, against which the Sjianiards vainly sought to 
protect themselves by the establishment of revenue cruisers. Some of these 
Spanish vessels had attacked English ships engaged in lawful traffic, and had 
committed several instances of barbarity, which had greatly moved the popu- 
lar indignation, and excited a clamour for war, to which the minister was 
reluctantly obliged to consent. 

Shortly before the breaking out of this war, a new colony had been found- 
ed in the south, which became speedily involved in hostilities. Carolina 
had originated in the desire of selfish aggrandizement; the adjacent one of 
Georgia, the last colony founded before the revolution, had its rise in a 
feeling of benevolence, and Non sihi sed aliis was appropriately selected for 
its motto. James Oglethorpe, a young gentleman of family and fortune, a 
soldier and a scholar, at an age when his class are usually absorbed in the 
pursuit of pleasure, had already distinguished himself for his zeal against in- 
carceration for debt, and for mitigating the horrors of imprisonment. To provide 
an asylum for those whom he had rescued from the jails, as well as other de- 
stitute persons, he turned his attention to the foundation of a new colony, 
obtained the co-operation of many persons of rank, from parliament a charter 
of incorporation together with a pecuniary grant, still further increased by 
liberal contributions from the nobility and clergy, who had become warmly 
interested in the success of so benevolent a plan. Statesmen and merchants 
were attracted by considerations of policy and interest; the new colony would 
interpose a barrier between Carolina and the Spanish settlements, and its soil 
was said to be admirably adapted for the production of silk. 

Oglethorpe determined to superintend the planting of his colony. And 



200 FOUNDATION OF GEORGIA BY OGLETHORPE. [1733-36. 

with thirty-five families, a clergyman, and a silk cultivator, on Nov. 17, 1732, set 
sail from Deptford, and after touching at Charleston, where he and his company 
were hospitably entertained and assisted, soon landed on the shores of his new 
province. On ascending the Savannah river, a pine-covered hill, somewhat 
elevated above its level shores, was fixed upon as the seat of the capital, which 
was laid out in broad avenues and open squares. During these operations 
Oglethorpe pitched his tent under a canopy of lofty pine trees. He found 
the spot, on his arrival, occupied by a small body of the Creek Indians, who 
were easily induced to surrender it, and to yield to the settlers an ample ex- 
tent of territory. A deputy of the Cherokees also made his appearance at 
Savannah. Fear nothing, but speak freely, said Oglethorpe to him, on his 
' entry. I always speak freely, replied the Indian ; why should I fear ? I am 
now among friends. I never feared even among my enemies. The Choctas 
also, complaining of French encroachment, shortly afterwards solicited a treaty 
of commerce with the new settlers. 

The English settlers, the sweepings of the jails, were not the most favourable 
class with which to plant a new colony, but as the fame of Oglethorpe and 
Georgia was spread abroad, it speedily received an accession of a more valu- 
able character. Among these were a body of German Lutherans, who, ex- 
posed to persecution at home, obtained the sympathy and assistance of the 
English parliament, who furnished the means for enabling them to emigrate. 
Headed by their ministers, they left the home of their fathers on foot 
and walked to Rotterdam, their place of embarkation, chanting as they went, 
hymns of thanksgiving for their deliverance. They touched at Dover, where 
they had an interview with their English patrons ; and on reaching Georgia, 
formed at a distance above Savannah a settlement, piously called Ebenezer, 
where they were shortly after joined by other members of their community. 
To these shortly afterwards were added several Moravians, the disciples of 
Count Zinzendorf. A company of destitute Jcavs had &lso been furnished 
by some of their wealthier brethren wdth the means of emigrating to Georgia, 
where, though discouraged by the trustees, they were allowed to establish 
themselves in peace. 

Oglethorpe now returned to England, carrying with him some of the In- 
dian chiefs, who on his arrival were presented to his Majesty, feasted by the 
nobility, and loaded with presents to a large amount. They remained four 
months, and on their embarkation at Gravesend were conveyed to that port 
in one of the royal carriages. Gratified by the kindness of their entertain- 
ment, and the general interest they had excited, they swore, on their departure, 
eternal fidelity to the British nation. By means of a parliamentary grant, 
another valuaole accession to the colony was made in 1736, consisting of a 
large body of Scotch Highlanders, who founded a colony called New Inver- 
ness. Oglethorpe himself returned with these settlers, and was accompanied 
by two young clergymen, whose names have since become famous wherever the 
English tongue is spoken. These were John and Charles Wesley, educated 
at Oxford, and as yet conformists to that church from which, unable to efifect 



173G-42.] THE WESLEYS IN GEORGIA. 201 

the reformation they desired, they afterwards led away so vast a secession. 
Charles was appointed secretary to Oglethorpe, while John was chosen the 
parish minister of Savannah, where however he soon became involved in dif- 
ficulties, which ultimately drove him from the colony. He had been led into 
an attachment to a young lady, whose piety at first appeared unquestionable, 
but proving upon further experiment less ardent than was exacted by the en- 
thusiastic temper of Wesley and his religious associates, he had been led by 
principle to break off the connexion, and the lady shortly after married another 
person. Becoming now more " worldly " than before, she was refused admission 
to the Lord's supper by her former lover, as rmfit to partake of that solemnity, 
an exclusion for which her husband brought a suit and obtained damages. 
Wesley, charged beside with other abuses of authority, and finding the public 
feeling running high against him, '' shook off the dust of his feet," and re- 
turned to England, disgusted with a country where his principles were des- 
tined to acquire a wide-spread influence, but which he never afterwards 
personally revisited. 

The towns of Frederica and Augusta were now founded, and the trading 
part of the English pushed nearer to the frontiers of the Spaniards, with whom 
hostilities were then pending. Oglethorpe had acquired the veneration of 
all classes by his benevolent labours, " nobly devoting all his powers to serve 
the poor, and rescue them from their wretchedness;" and no less was his 
vigour displayed in the defence of his beloved colony. Though he himself 
possessed no share of its territory, he determined to shelter it, if needful, with 
his life. " To me," he said to Charles Wesley, " death is nothing. If separate 
spirits regard our little concerns, they do it as men regard the follies of their 
childhood." He returned to England, raised and disciplined a regiment, and 
returned to Savannah, where he was received with an enthusiastic welcome. 

Soon afterwards the war, signalized by the voyage of Anson and the 
disasters of Vernon, broke out. Oglethorpe, after an unsuccessful siege of 
the neighbouring city of St. Augustine, returned to defend his own colony, 
which was menaced with invasion by the Spaniards. He succeeded in re- 
pelling a formidable attack upon Frederica, which had inspired the greatest 
apprehensions in Charleston. Notwithstanding these successes, Oglethorpe 
found the government of his newly-founded colony any thing but an easy task, 
and was destined to experience no small share of meanness and ingratitude. 
The colonists first sent over Thomas Stevens as their agent to England, laden 
with complaints against the trustees in general, which having been duly ex- 
amined by the House of Commons, were pronounced to be " false, scandalous, 
and malicious." Oglethorpe himself was next cited to aj)pear in England to 
answer charges brought against his character, which he so effectually suc- 
ceeded in vindicating, that his accuser, who was his own lieutenant-colonel, 
was deprived of his commission. He never afterwards returned to Georgia. 
His name, which no malevolence could ever stain with baseness, will ever 
stand conspicuous among the noble spirits who have laboured for the ameli- 
oration of their species. 

2 D 



202 SURRENDER OF L0UI8BURG TO THE ENGLISH. [1745. 

The French soon afterwards became involved in the war, and the northern 
frontier became a third time the scene of hostilities. 

After the cession of Acadia to the English, the French had expended vast 
sums in the erection of the fortress of Louisburg, on the island of Cape 
Breton, which soon became a stronghold for numerous privateers, that inflicted 
severe injuries on the commerce and fisheries of New England. To effect its 
reduction was therefore of the most vital importance, yet the attempt might 
well have appeared all but desperate. The walls of the fortress, surrounded 
with a moat, were prodigiously strong, and furnished with nearly two 
hundred pieces of cannon. A body of prisoners, however, who, having been 
seized at the English settlement of Canso and carried to Louisburg, were 
allowed to return to Boston on parole, disclosed the important fact that the 
garrison was both weak and disaffected. Shirley, the governor, proposed to 
the legislature of Massachusetts to attempt its reduction, a proposal carried 
by only a single vote. The northern States, invited to co-operate against 
the common enemy, furnished some small supplies of men and money, but 
the chief burden fell upon Massachusetts itself. The enthusiasm of her citi- 
zens was enkindled by religious zeal as well as commercial interest — all 
classes offered themselves as volunteers, from the hardy woodman of the in- 
terior, to tlie intrepid fisherman of the coast. Whitefield, tlien on a preaching 
excursion through the northern colonies, gave as a motto for the flag, " With 
Christ as a leader, nothing is to be despaired of," and sermons were preached 
to maintain the popular excitement at the highest pitch. 

Ten vessels shortly sailed from Boston with a body of more than three 
thousand men, and after a few days' sail reached Canso, where they were to 
await the melting of the ice and the arrival of further succours. Most for- 
tunately they were here joined by four English ships of war, under the com- 
mand of Captain Warren, who at the solicitation of Shirley had been ordered 
to co-operate zealously with the expedition. Over the New England arma- 
ment was William Pepperell, a wealthy merchant of Maine, but who had no 
further knowledge of military affairs than he had obtained by commanding the 
militia. On the morning of the last day of April, the squadron arrived off 
Louisburg, the troops were landed in spite of opposition, and the siege was 
carried on with all the energy of courage and enthusiasm, though uninstructed 
and inexperienced in the art of war. Cannon were dragged through morasses, 
and batteries established in an irregular sort of way, but no impression was 
made upon the Avorks, and after the first outburst of excitement was spent, the 
most sanguine were compelled to admit that the place seemed all but impregna- 
ble, and that the campaign promised to be both long and arduous. Happily the 
greatest friends of the besiegers were a discontented garrison and embarrassed 
governor, whose supplies had been already cut off by the vigilance of the Eng- 
lish fleet, that now succeeded in capturing, under his very eyes, a ship of war 
sent to his relief. To hold out longer with any chance of success was impossible, 
and on the 17th, he accordingly surrendered. This important capture was look- 
ed on by the pious New Englanders as " a remarkable providence," and caused 



1747.] KNO WLES IMPRESSES SOME B OSTON CITIZENS. 203 

great rejoicings at Boston. The enterprise indeed was all their own, though 
its success had been materially promoted by succours from the mother coun- 
try, where their energy and prowess were honourably recognised, not without 
some slight tincture of jealous apprehensions for the future. Pepperell re- 
ceived the honour of an English Baronetcy, and Shirley received a commis- 
sion as Colonel in the British army. 

The fall of Louisburg was no sooner known in Paris than a formidable 
armament was despatched from the shores of France for its recapture, as well 
as that of Acadia itself. It was commanded by M. D'Anville, an able and 
experienced officer, but was scattered by a succession of disasters, and return- 
ed home without accomplishing its object. A second fleet which was de- 
spatched on the same errand, was encountered and captured by a British 
squadron under Admirals Anson and Warren. 

This fortress, however, which the arms of France had been unable to retain 
or recapture, was shortly afterwards restored to its former possessors at the 
peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, to the deep mortification of the New Englanders. 
Some amends however were made by the payment to them of an indemnity 
by the British government for the expenses they had incurred in the ex- 
pedition. 

Shortly before the peace, occurred an incident which conspicuously dis- 
played the spirit of the people of Boston. Commodore Knowles, then off that 
city with his fleet, having lost several of his men by desertion, proceeded to fill 
up their room by a summary and cruel process of impressment, which at that 
time was universally resorted to in England. Sending some of hjs boats up to 
Boston, he seized from the wharves, as well as vessels, as many persons, lands- 
men and seamen, as his necessities happened to require. This proceed- 
ing, unheard of in the colonies, created an intense excitement. A mob of 
several thousand people immediately collected, and besieged the tOAvn-house, 
where the council was then in session, with a storm of stones and brickbats. 
In vain did Governor Shirley come forth upon the balcony, and with a dis- 
avowal of the outrage, and a promise to obtain redress, endeavour to calm the 
exasperated feelings of the populace' — they seized upon the officers of the ship, 
who happened to be on shore at the time, and detained them as hostages for 
the ransom of their fellow citizens. The governor earnestly entreated Knowles 
to give up the impressed seamen, in reply to which he offered to land a body 
of mariners to support the governor, and threatened to bombard the town 
unless the tumult was appeased. The excitement continually increased, and 
the militia, who were called out next day, evincing a sympathy with the 
mob, Shirley, considering himself in personal danger, retired from the town to 
the castle, situated on an island in the neighbouring bay, a retreat which the 
more zealous of the mob began to consider equal to an abdication. As mat- 
ters had now reached an alarming pitch, the leading members of society, who 
had fully concurred in the movement, began to think that it was time to check 
it, and assembling in town meeting, declared their intention, at the same time 
that they yielded to none in a sense of the outrage committed by Knowles, to 

2 i> 2 



204 THE IMPRESSED MEN RETURNED. [1747. 

stand by the governor and executive, and to suppress this threatening tumult, 
which they attributed to " negroes and persons of vile condition." Meanwhile 
Knowles, at the earnest solicitation of the governor, consented to return most 
of the men he had impressed, and shortly afterwards departed with his fleet, 
while Shirley, returning to Boston, was escorted to his house with every 
honour by the same militia, who but a day or two before had refused to obey 
his instructions. In his report of this rebellious insurrection, he ascribes the 
" mobbish turn of a town inhabited by twenty thousand people, to its constitu- 
tion, by which the management of it devolves on the populace assembled in 
their town meetings." 

Thus, for the present, terminated the struggle between France and Eng- 
land on the continent of North America. It was however but a temporary 
truce, for the disputes concerning the boundaries alone contained the seed of 
future wars, which could only end with the absolute ascendency of the 
strongest party. The conquest of Canada had become the favourite scheme both 
of the Englisli government and the northern colonies ; an object not to be 
accomplished in less than several campaigns, in which the blood and treasure 
of France and England were freely squandered, and in which success alter- 
nated with either party, until the disj)ute was finally decided by the memor- 
able encounter upon the heights of Quebec. 



CHAPTER 11. 



GENERAL mOGRESS OF THE COLONIES DURING THE PERIOD OF THE INTERCOLONIAL WARS. — 
MASSACHUSETTS. — NEW YORK. — PENNSYLVANIA. — VIRGINIA. — THE CAROLINAS. — GEORGIA. — 
LOUISIANA. 

We now proceed to give a view of the general progress and political con- 
dition of the colonies during the intercolonial wars. While the provisional 
government that followed the deposition of Andros lasted, the mass of the peo- 
ple in Massachusetts desired the restoration of their original charter, but the 
council of safety held out, partly for fear of committing themselves with the 
English government, and partly as secretly desiring to effect certain liberal 
modifications. Mather had been sent over to England as agent for the colony, 
and with him Avas associated Sir Henry Ashurst, an English dissenter of 
influence. On soliciting at court a restoration of the charter, they were at 
first backed by the parliament itself, but the fulfilment of their desires was 
baulked by the ascendency of the Tory party. William's sense of jDrerogative 
was as high as that of his predecessors, and the crown lawyers maintained 



1693.] A'^BW CHARTER GRANTED TO MASSACHUSETTS. 205 

the absoliite power of the king and parliament to modify at will the govern- 
ment of the colonies, unless when a special legal provision existed against it. 
However doubtful might be this pretension in the abstract, it was in the pre- 
sent instance the cause of the political foundation of the colony being laid 
more broadly and securely than before. When Sir William Phipps, in 1692, 
returned as governor bearing with him a new charter, it was found to contain 
very considerable modifications, of which the most important was the alter- 
ation of the right of suffrage, Avhich had proved the bone of contention ever 
since the foundation of the State. This privilege was now no longer to be 
confined to orthodox church members, but upon all freeholders whatsoever 
to the annual value of forty shillings. Toleration was also expressly secured 
to all except Papists. Politically speaking, therefore, the power of the theo- 
cratic party, under whose stern rule the commonwealth had grown up, was 
now come to an end, although, as we shall presently see, they long continued 
to exercise a preponderating influence upon the public mind of the colony. 

By this charter tbe province acquired a great increase of territory. Its ju- 
risdiction extended over Plymouth, Maine, and Nova Scotia ; New Hamp- 
shire being excluded. The people as before were to elect the council of 
representatives, but the nomination of the governor and chief officers was 
reserved to the crown. 

The royal governors of Massachusetts often experienced no little difficulty 
in dealing M'ith a people so doggedly tenacious of popular rights. Under the 
administration of Colonel Shute, a quarrel arose between the advocates of a 
public and private bank, in which the governor sided with the former, 
and thus exposed himself to the virulent opposition of the advocates of the 
latter. This party, enjoying a majority, elected their leader, a man par- 
ticularly obnoxious to Shute, to the post of speaker ; the governor interposed 
his veto, and, the house persisting in its choice on the ground that the charter 
gave to the governor no express authority for such an act, he at once dissolved 
them. The people returned nearly the same men, who, while they chose 
another speaker, protested boldly against the governor's act, and voted him a 
diminished salary. The governor then informed them that he was instructed 
by the king to recommend the appointment of a regular and competent 
salary, a request which they continued to evade through several sessions, 
until Shute, finding his situation intolerable, privately returned to England, 
loud in his complaints against the factious temper of the colonists, and their 
disposition to encroach upon the royal prerogative until it would become at 
last no better than nominal. The same controversy was rencAved under the 
governorship of his successor, Burnet, who had been removed hither from New 
York. His demand for a permanent salary which should confer on him inde- 
pendence and dignity was evaded, although the assembly voted liberally for a 
present supply. The dispute, again prolonged through several sessions, remain- 
ed unadjusted. A memorial was sent over to the king by the assembly, justi- 
fying their conduct, and the matter was referred to the Board of Trade, who, 
after hearing advocates for both parties, condemned the assembly, and in their 



206 IMPORT DUTY IMPOSED IN NEW ENGLAND. [1733. 



4 



concluding report to the king, press upon liim tlie necessity of vigorously- 
restraining the growing power of the colonists. 

" The inhabitants," say the Board, " far from making suitable returns to his 
IMajesty, for the extraordinary privileges they enjoy, are daily endeavouring 
to wrest the small remains of power out of the hands of the crown, and to be- 
come independent of the mother kingdom. The nature of the soil and pro- 
ducts are much the same with Great Britain, the inhabitants upwards of 
ninety-four thousand, and their militia, consisting of sixteen regiments of 
foot and fifteen troops of horse, in the year 1718, fifteen thousand men ; and 
by a medium taken from the naval ofiicers' accounts for three years, from the 
24th of June, 1714, to the 24th of June, 1717, for the ports of Boston and 
Salem only, it appears that the trade of this country employs continually no 
less than three thousand four hundred and ninety-three sailors, and four 
hundred and ninety-two ships, making twenty-five thousand four hundred 
and six tons. Hence your Excellencies Avill be apprized of what importance 
it is to his Majesty's service, that so powerful a colony should be restrained 
within due bounds of obedience to the crown ; which, we conceive, cannot 
effectually be done without the interposition of the British legislature, wherein, 
in our humble opinion, no time should be lost." 

The passing of the IMolasses Act, in 1733, is worthy of remark as being the 
first instance in which the claim of England to regulate the external commerce 
of the colonies was asserted in a manner similar to that which, but a few years 
later, produced a general convulsion. The people of New England having 
established a manufacture of rum from molasses imported from the West 
Indies, which interfered with the trade of those islands, a duty was imposed 
by parliament upon imports received thence by the colonists. This measure 
created great discontent, and an inhabitant of Massachusetts was severely 
called to account by the general court for the evidence on the subject which 
he had given before the House of Commons — a proceeding which was warmly 
resented by that body. Besides its obvious tendency to injure colonial com- 
merce, it Avas protested against as divesting the colonists of their rights as 
Englishmen, by levying taxes upon them against their consent, without their 
possessing any representation in parliament. This act, afterwards regarded as 
a precedent by English statesmen, was however very generally evaded. As 
the colonists continued the development of their internal resources, and new 
channels of foreign commerce opened to their enterprise, it was becoming 
more and more the general feeling that such restrictions could not much 
longer be submitted to, although as yet open opposition to them seems not 
to have been thought of. But the smouldering fire was ready to burst forth 
on the first occasion of importance. 

In New York, still divided into the Leislerian and anti-Leislerian factions, 
the administration of Fletcher, who had succeeded to Slaughter, was intended 
to carry out the predominance of English influence. Fletcher was active and 
energetic, and zealous in the service of the colony, but rash and passionate, 
the firm partisan of the English Church, and disposed to assert the absolute 



1692.] FLETCHER'S GOVERNMENT OF NEW YORK. 207 

supremacy of royal power. Even the aristocratic party Itself resisted these 
despotic tendencies, and passed an act declaring that supreme legislative 
power belonged to the governor and council, and to the people through their 
representatives, and that no tax could be levied without their consent, 
enactments which were nevertheless annulled by the English sovereign: 
A plan warmly cherished by Fletcher was to endow the English Episcopal . 
Church, in lieu of the Dutch, to which the mass of the inhabitants yet re- 
mained warmly attached. Having laid the subject before the assembly, they so 
far complied as to pass an act making provision for certain ministers, the choice 
of whom was however to be left to the people themselves. The council made 
an amendment, that the approval or rejection of their candidate should be left 
with the governor, but the assembly refused to sanction it. Fletcher was 
highly indignant, and having commanded the attendance of the assembly, 
prorogued them in a speech curiously characteristic both of the man himself, 
and of colonial administration in general. 

" Gentlemen, There is also a bill for settling a ministry in this city and some 
other countries of the government. In that very thing you have showed a 
great deal of stiffness. You take upon you, as if you were dictators. I sent 
down to you an amendment of three or four words in that bill, which, though 
very immaterial, yet was positively denied ; I must tell you it seems very un- 
mannerly. There never was an amendment yet desired by the council-board 
but what was rejected. It is the sign of a stubborn ill temper, and this I have 
also passed." Proceeding then to remind them that they have but a third 
share in the government, that the council were a sort of upper house, and 
that he had the power by his Majesty's letters patent to collate or suspend at 
his pleasure, he concludes thus sarcastically : " You have sat a long time to 
little purpose, and have been a great charge to the country. Ten shillings 
a-day is a large allowance, and you punctually exact it. You have been 
always forward enough to pull down the fees of other ministers in the govern- 
ment. Why did you not think it expedient to correct your own? Gentle- 
men, I shall say no more at present, but that you do withdraw to your private 
affairs in the countr)'-. I do prorogue you to the tenth of January next, and 
you are hereby prorogued to the 10th day of January next ensuing." 

Nor was Fletcher more fortunate with the stubborn citizens of Connecticut, 
than he had been with the assembly of New York. The English government, 
bent on a system of centralization, desired to confer the command of the Con- 
necticut militia upon the governor of New York, a plan which extorted from 
the inhabitants of the former State a spirited protest against a measure inimical 
to their freedom and repugnant to their charter. This memorial they despatch- 
ed to England by the hands of Winthrop, but Fletcher, without awaiting an 
answer, determined to carry matters with the high hand of power. Repairing 
therefore to the small town of Hartford, where the Connecticut assembly was 
then in session, he endeavoured, but in vain, to overawe that body into an 
immediate compliance with his demands. Declaring that he would not set his 
foot out of the province till his Majesty's orders had been obeyed, he then 



208 POPULARITY OF LORD BELAMONT. [1695. 

ordered tlie trained bands to be assembled, and his commission to be read 
to tbem. Captain Wadsworth, the senior captain, walked up and down, 
ostensibly engaged in exercising his men. " Beat the drums," he exclaim- 
ed, as Fletcher's officer lifted up his voice to read. The governor commanded 
silence, and his officer prepared to read. " Drum, drum, I say again," vocifer- 
ated Wadsworth, and the voice of the reader was a second time drowned in 
the discordant roll. " Silence," passionately exclaimed Fletcher. " Drum, 
drum, 1 say," roared Wadsworth in a still louder key; and significantly turn- 
ing to Fletcher, he exclaimed, " If I am interrupted again I will make the 
sun shine through you in a moment." The angry governor, astounded at this 
display of spirit, was compelled to swallow the affront, and shortly afterward 
Winthrop returned with the royal concession, that on ordinary occasions, at 
least, the command of the local militia belonged to the respective States. 

If Fletcher was rash, arbitrary, and unsuccessful in moulding the public 
mind. Lord Bellamont, who succeeded him after the peace of Byswick, and 
had a general commission to preside over the northern colonies, by mildness, 
liberality, and conciliating manners, won golden opinions from all ranks of 
the people. AVhile in England, he had taken an active jjart in the renewal of 
Leisler's attainder, and on his arrival the bones of that u.nfortunate man and 
his son-in-law were taken up, and after lying some days in state, solemnly 
reinterred in the Dutch church, while an indemnity was also voted to their 
heirs. Repairing to Boston, Lord Bellamont, although an Episcopalian, 
by his courteous and respectful treatment of the theocratic clergy, and occa- 
sionally attending their ministrations, rendered himself exceedingly popular, 
and freely obtained a larger salary than any preceding governor had been 
allowed. While he thus became personally acceptable, he was but indifferently 
successful in the special objects he was sent out to accomplish. Of these the 
principal was the enforcement of conformity to the acts of trade. The original 
establishment, by the arbitrary government of the Stuarts, of these obiioxious 
statutes, together with their successful evasion, has been already described : 
they were now enforced by a new, and perhaps more formidable authori''^ 
that of parliament itself, and fortified by a growing commercial jealousy on 
the part of the English mercantile and manufacturing interest, Avho were now 
acquiring a powerful influence over the affairs of the nation. At the earnest 
instances of this body a permanent commission had been formed, denominated 
"The Board of Trade and Plantations." As the narrow policy of commercial 
monopoly Avas at that time universal, and the doctrine was asserted that the 
colonies existed for the purpose of enriching the parent state, it became the 
business of this commission to adopt every means for discouraging manufoc- 
tures in the colonics, of checking the freedom of their commerce, and divert- 
ing its profits into English coffers. In New York all attempts to enforce 
the restrictions had been vain, and the Boston merchants loudly expressed 
their indignation at the selfish and oppressive enactments. It AA'as even 
asserted that the colonists were not bound to obey laws enacted in a country 
where they had no representatives. Although some temporizing concessions 



1698.] SUPPOSED CONSPIRACY AMONG THE NEGROES. 209 

were made by Rhode Island. Bellamont soon found himself involved in 
disputes arising out of this subject, which were only terminated by his 
sudden death. 

With a view to the suppression of piracy, which had followed in the train 
of the late wars, a company was formed in Avhich both the king and the 
colonial governor were partners, for the recapture of piratical vessels, as well 
as the second-hand acquisition of their ill-gotten plunder. The command of 
an armed vessel for this purpose was conferred on William Kidd, a New 
York shipmaster ; but hardly had he been sent to sea, when he turned pirate 
himself, contrived to engage the crew in his schemes, and entered vipon an atro- 
cious career of murder and pillage. One of Bellamont's instructions was, if 
possible, to capture Kidd, who for three years evaded all pursuit. Strange 
to say, however, after the expiration of that term, wearied or disappointed, he 
burned his shi^), buried a considerable amount of treasure on Long Island, 
and ventured openly to appear in the streets of Boston, where he was recog- 
nised by the astonished Bellamont, and being sent to England, terminated his 
career on the gallows. Much odium was naturally attached to everybody 
implicated in this adventux'C, and a motion Avas made in the House of Com- 
mons that all concerned in it should be deprived of their employments, 
but the confession of Kidd conclusively showed the falsity of these suspi- 
cions, by its denial of any accomplices in his crimes. 

To the amiable Bellamont succeeded Lord Cornbury, a grandson of 
Clarendon, sent over to escape his creditors ; a man whose imperious in- 
solence and unprincipled rapacity disgusted even the aristocratic party who 
were disposed to welcome him with incense, while his profligate and indecent 
manners provoked the general contempt. No one could possibly have been 
selected better fitted to unite all parties in determined resistance to a foreign 
yoke. Accordingly from the period of his administration the spirit of popular 
liberty made rapid jirogress in New York. 

In 1741, this city was frightened from its propriety by a supposed negro 
conspiracy. Two or three fires happening in quick succession, were at 
first attributed to accident alone, but when the number increased to nine, in 
almost as many days, popular suspicion was awakened, and at last rested 
on the negroes, who formed at that time nearly one-fifth of the population. 
The supreme court, at its ensuing meeting, strictly enjoined the grand jury 
to prosecute inquiries as to the incendiaries, when one Mary Burton, servant 
to a low fellow, at whose house the negroes met to indulge in debauchery, 
having been apprehended on suspicion, and moreover, stimulated by an 
oficred reward of £100, made a confession the very absurdity of which would 
have demonstrated its fiilsehood, had the public prejudices been less deeply 
rooted. According to her statement, the negroes assembled at her master's 
house to concert measures for burning the city and exterminating the whites ; 
no less than twenty of them were accustomed to meet for this purpose, and 
they had as many as seven or eight guns, and as many swords, wherewith 
to effect their bloody purposes. Fresh informers now came forward, one of 

2 E 



210 PENN'S DIFFICULTIES WITH THE COLONISTS. [1699. 

them being a servant in prison for tlieft, the other a notorious prostitute, 
and upon the information of this triumvirate, many negroes were thrown into 
prison, and, like those accused of witchcraft, terrified into false and incoherent 
confessions. When the trial came on, all the counsel in the city volunteered 
on behalf of the croAvn, while the accused were left to defend themselves. 
The issue could hardly be doubtful, out of one hundred and fifty-four negroes 
committed to prison, fourteen were burned at the stake, eighteen hanged, 
seventy-one transported, and the rest discharged for want of eve.n such evi- 
dence, slender as it was, as had sufficed to convict their brethren. Among 
the victims was a Papist schoolmaster, said to be a priest in disguise, and 
accused of, stimulating the negroes to this atrocious plot. He had been 
already committed under the act against Jesuits and Popish priests, and was 
now condemned and executed, calling upon God to witness his innocence of 
the crime attributed to him. So confident, however, were the people of its 
reality, that an inhabitant of New York published at the time a circumstantial 
account of the conspiracy. After the executions, and when the informers be- 
gan to inculpate the white citizens, a reaction began to take place, though it 
was long before the public mind was entirely disabused of this infatuation. 

The progress of Pennsylvania was in the mean time rapid, and its govern- 
ment became still more democratic in form. It would neither be easy nor 
profitable to detail the disputes that arose between the people and Penn ; 
such as, while human nature is imperfect, must inevitably spring up under 
similar circumstances. Penn listened favourably to the jealous demands of 
his people for a still further control over the political affiurs of the province, 
but their treatment of his proprietary claims occasioned him much vexation and 
annoyance. He had expended so largely from his private fortune as to 
have fallen into embarrassment, yet the quit rents to which he looked for a 
return were found to be extremely difficult of collection. Unselfish himself, 
he was deeply pained at this exhibition of selfishness on the part of those to 
whom he had behaved in so liberal a spirit. The fall of his patron, James 
II., and the accession of William of Orange, naturally exposed him to much 
suspicion ; he was repeatedly imprisoned on the charge of corresponding with 
the banished monarch, and deprived of the government of Pennsylvania. 
His innocence however was so fully established, and his integrity respected, 
that he was soon restored to his rights, and in 1709, after an absence of fifteen 
years, revisited his beloved colony. He found it rapidly flourishing, and freely 
conceded such popular reforms as were required of him. Although he did 
not lift up his voice against the establishment of negro slavery, which indeed 
he had no power to prevent, he endeavoured to amend the moral and social 
condition of the negroes, by proposing a bill to secure to them the rights of 
legal marriage ; and although he was defeated, he yet persevered in inculcating 
a spirit which eventually led to the abolition of slavery in Pennsylvania in 
about half a century. Quitting Pennsylvania for the last time, he returned 
to England, where his latter days were overclouded with embarrassments, and 
harassed by pecuniary disputes with his distant people. Before his departure 



1700-50.] PENN'S COLONY AFTER HIS DEATH, 211 

he had proposed the establishment of a new form of government, and in 1701, 
presented one which was accepted by the assembly, who thereby acquired the 
right of originating bills, previously vested in the governor alone, and of 
rejecting or amending any that might be laid before them. He was at length 
tempted to throw u]d a load too heavy for him. He had been already com- 
pelled to mortgage his government in order to obtain money, and he now 
prepared to enter into a contract for ceding the sovereignty of Pennsylvania to 
Queen Anne, but it was set aside by an attack of paralysis, which eventually, 
in 1717, terminated his existence. Beyond the reach of calumny and detrac- 
tion, the clouds that had obscured his fair fame were now dissipated, his great- 
ness of character and singleness of purpose were universally acknowledged, 
and his memory regarded with affectionate veneration. 

After the death of Penn his claims descended to his brother, and the same 
disputes were kept up between the assembly and proprietaries as before, 
and which continued to agitate the colony until the Revolution broke out; 
just before which period, Franklin, who had warmly advocated the popular 
cause, was despatched to England, to solicit on the part of the people the 
abolition of the proprietary government. 

The legislature of the province long remained in the hands of the Quakers, 
who responded but feebly to the demands for men and money to co-operate 
in maintaining the wars with the French. "When called upon by the 
governor to levy a contingent of a hundred and fifty soldiers, they protested 
"Avith all humility, that they could not in conscience provide money to hire 
men to kill each other." They went so far however as to tender a present to 
her jNIajesty of £500, the application of which was left to her own conscience ; 
but this the governor declined to accept. Is was not until the last inter- 
colonial war in 1755, that the Quakers, Avho were still in the ascendant, were 
compelled, in consequence of the general excitement, and the ravage of their 
frontiers by the Indians, to vote a handsome sum for the avowed purpose of 
raising a military force, in which Franklin bore a commission. Many of 
them, upon this enforced violation of their principles, resigned their seats, 
and from this time their influence no longer preponderated in the colony. 
They persisted in declaring that the Indians had not been impelled to these 
attacks by any acts of theirs, but by wrongs and outrages on the part of 
others, for which pacific negotiation was the proper remedy ; and with this 
view they opened a conference with the Delawares, appointed Charles 
Thompson, afterward secretary to the Continental Congress, as assistant 
secretary to their chief, and succeeded, in some measure at least, in the object 
of their benevolent exertions. 

Since Bacon's rebellion nothing had occurred to disturb the tranquillity of 
Virginia, which continued its rapid increase in wealth and population. Little 
indeed appeared to a cursory observer to indicate the real importance of this 
province, which yet retained the appearance of a half-cleared wilderness. 
Few towns or villages had grown up as centres to the population, which was 
scattered abroad along the courses of the great rivers, dwelling in lonely log 

2 E 2 



212 PROGRESS OF THE COLONIES. [1750. 

liuts or rude cabins, and keeping up intercourse with one another by narrow 
'•horse paths through swamps and forests, or by boating up and down the 
numerous streams which intersect the country. The people lived -a rude and 
joyous pastoral life, principally engaged in cultivating tobacco, and amusing 
themselves with the rifle in the woods ; hospitality was universal, and the few 
tavern bills a traveller was called to pay, were liquidated in rolls o'f tobacco. 
We have already described the general state of society. A few wealthy 
planters resided in almost feudal pomp, and possessed almost feudal privi- 
leges over the indented servants and negro slaves who cultivated their vast 
estates. The favourite policy of Berkeley, that of depressing education, lest it 
should bring with it a spirit of innovation and discontent, was yielding to the 
spirit of the age ; yet while the other colonies were acquiring a free press, it 
was long ere a single newspaper brought tidings of the world to the solitary 
hut of the Virginian, and when the parishes of the ministry extended over 
miles of wilderness he did not very often visit the church. Derived from an 
aristocratic stem, the province was remarkable for its loyalty ; but loyalty to a 
distant monarch whose smile or frown is never to be hoped or dreaded, soon 
becomes a merely traditional feeling in the breasts of those who feel them- 
selves the real sovereigns of the soil. 

The progress of the Carolinas was rapid, the introduction of the staples of 
rice and indigo had vastly enriched the colonies, and the planters acquired 
great wealth. From their central position, they were but little affected by the 
first intercolonial war. In 1706, Charleston, which had now increased to a 
considerable town, successfully repulsed an attack by the French and Spani- 
ards, and was threatened with a more formidable one the following year, by 
DTberville, which was frustrated by his death in the West Indies. The 
Church of England had, after some opposition, become established. 

The settlement of Georgia, the last colony founded before the Revo- 
lution, has already been briefly narrated. After the return of Oglethorpe to 
England, the settlers succeeded in their desired object of the establishment 
of slavery. The progress of the colony was for a long while exceedingly 
slow and discouraging, and in 1752, the charter was surrendered, and Georgia, 
like Carolina, received a governor from the crown. 

Turning from the British colonies, let us now briefly trace the progress 
made by those of France. The termination of her long-protracted hostilities 
with the Five Nations, opened to her an uninterrupted egress to the bound- 
less regions of the Far West. The vivid descriptions given of its green 
prairies and genial climate, by the unfortunate La Salle, now induced many 
to resort thither from the colder and more stubborn region of Canada, by the 
way first traversed by Marquette in 1673, and afterwards by La Salle him- 
self, and by the straits of INIackinaw, to the mouth of the St. Joseph river of 
Michigan, and to Chicago creek of Illinois, whence they passed over the 
dividing ridge to the head branches of the Illinois river. Some of the old 
companions of La Salle and Tonti had remained there, and small communities 
had gradually been formed on the Illinois and IMississippi. The missionaries 



1G93.J D'IBER VILLE'S EXPEDITION TO THE MISSISSIPPI 213 

had pushed their sta,tion as high as Peoria Lake, on the north, and to Red 
River on the south. Kaskasia had become a populous village, while in 
1701, La Motte Cadillac, with a hundred followers, laid the foundation of a 
new settlement at Detroit. On all sides the French were rapidly extending 
their establishments and their influence. 

A bold and successful effort was now made to renew La Salle's project for 
colonizing the Mississippi by the Canadian, D'Iberville, who had distin- 
guished himself in the recent war with England, and was greatly regarded 
as an experienced and distinguished commander. With two frigates, and 
some smaller vessels carrying about two hundred colonists, for the most 
part disbanded military, and accompanied by his brothers Sauvolle and 
Bienville, men of merit akin to his own, on the 24th September, 1698, 
he sailed from La Rochelle, and touched at St. Domingo, whence he was 
escorted by an additional ship of war as far as the shores of Louisiana. On 
arriving in the Bay of Pensacola,' he found himself forestalled by the Spaniards, 
who, jealous of French encroachments upon a territory to Avhich they still laid 
claim, had hastened to occupy this advantageous position. Proceeding to the 
westAvard, he landed on Ship Island, off the mouth of the Pascagoula, and on 
the 2Tth of February set off in quest of the great river St. Louies, or, as it had 
been lately called by the French, the " Hidden River." Li two large barges, 
each carrying twenty-four men, and commanded by himself and his brother 
Bienville, he moved westward along the coast, passing the Balize ; and on the 
22nd of March, entering a wide river flowing into the sea, which Father 
Athenase, who had accompanied La Salle on his unfortunate voyage, declared 
to be the true St. Louis. Its deep and turbid flood, bearing on its surface 
vast quantities of floating timber, the spoils of the western forests, seemed to 
point it out at once and unmistakeably as the mighty father of the western 
floods. D'Iberville, who had expected to have found a more expansive out- 
let, at first had his doubts, but they were entirely dispelled as he proceeded 
further wp the majestic stream, and beheld in the hands of the Indians the 
painful traces of his unfortunate predecessors in enterprise. The first was a 
portion of a Spanish coat of mail, a relic of Soto's expedition ; the second, a 
letter written by Tonti to La Salle. From this document, which had been 
carefully preserved by the Indians, it appeared that Tonti with a body of 
men had descended the Mississippi from Illinois, to meet La Salle on his 
expected arrival from France, but after long and vain research, had returned 
disheartened to his post. After exploring the country, D'Iberville returned 
by the Manipac pass, and through Lakes Maurepas and Pontchartrain, and 
rejoined his companions on Ship Island — the first explorer who had ever 
ascended the Mississippi from the sea. On the sandy and desolate shore of 
Biloxi, a spot about eighty miles north-east from the present city of New 
Orleans, exposed to the fierce heat of a tropical sun, he settled his followers, 
erected a fort with four bastions and twelve cannon, and leaving his brothers 
in command, returned to France to seek for reinforcements to his successful 
enterprise. 



214 DIFFICULTIES FY COLONIZING LOUISIANA. [1712. 

In addition to the difficulties arising out of uncongenial soil and climate, 
the French had to encounter the opposition of the Spanish and English, to 
what they regarded as an encroachment. But the accession of a Bourbon 
prince to the throne of Spain set aside the pretensions of the Spaniards, nor 
were those of the English destined to be effectively asserted. Father Henne- 
pin, who had accompanied La Salle in his exploration of the Mississipjji, 
and who had fldsely claimed to have anticipated that adventurer in his 
descent of the river, had been taken into the pay of William III., who 
expressed his firm determination to plant a Protestant colony on the 
spot. The patent for settling the vast province of Carolina, which, as 
before stated, had been granted by Charles II., had been purchased by 
one Coxe, a London physician, who had succeeded in getting two armed 
vessels sent out to assert his visionary claim. As Bienville returned from a 
visit to the Indians, he encountered one of these hostile ships, a corvette of 
twelve guns, ascending the Mississippi. He sent a flag on board assuring the 
British commander that he was within the limits of a country discovered and 
settled by the French, and that there were strong defences a few miles 
farther up the river. Overawed by this threat, or, as others assert, deceived 
by an assurance that the river he was sailing in was not the Mississippi, the 
English commander tacked about and returned at a spot which, from this 
incident, still retains the appellation of the " English Turn." But though 
relieved from this apprehension, and in spite of the most energetic efforts, 
the colony maintained but a languishing existence. A body of fugitive 
French Protestants had landed in Carolina from the English vessels, and now 
requested permission to remove to the Mississippi, and settle under their 
national flag ; but the French monarch repelled them with the unfeeling de- 
claration, that he had not expelled the Huguenots from France to allow them 
to form a republic in Louisiana. They had little cause for regret, as the 
sickliness of the situation soon cut off the larger portion of the emigrants. 
The fortress was now transferred from Biloxi to Mobile. DTberville also 
built a new fort near Poverty Point, where he was joined by the veteran 
Tonti, with whom he now proceeded on a voyage up the Mississipj^i, and 
being pleased with his reception by the tribes of Natchez Indians, he founded 
on a bold eminence above the river, a settlement called Posalie, after the 
Countess of Pontchartrain, the site of the present city of Natchez. But the 
health of DTberville was broken with his successive explorations and 
voyages, and he died at Havana on his return from another voyage to France 
with a force intended for the reduction of Charleston. 

Louisiana, as boundless in its ideal limits (Avhich were made to include the 
Mississippi valley and its tributaries, and all the country westward to the 
Bio del Norte) as it had hitherto proved unfortunate in actual progress, was 
soon afterwards assigned to Anthony Crozat, a wealthy French merchant, 
who established a monopoly of its commerce, so unprofitable both to himself 
and the settlers, that he speedily resigned his charter. Although some 
progress had been made by Bienville in conciliating the Natchez Indians, by 



1712.] FOUNDATION OF NEW ORLEANS. 215 

whose assistance he had erected Fort Rosalie upon the spot marked out Dy 
D'Iberville, Louisiana still continued in a very depressed state. But 
while thus struggling for existence, it became, by a singular illusion, the ideal 
source whence boundless opulence might be derived. The celebrated paper 
system of -Law had just been established in France, and to the Company of the 
West, otherwise called the Mississippi Company, which had been established 
under his auspices, the monopoly of Louisianian enterprise was now transferred. 
The shares were eagerly bought up, visions of tropical wealth, of gold and 
silver mines, and boundless territorial acquisitions, agitated and duped the 
credulous public. This excitement had however the immediate effect of 
promoting the settlement of the country. By the terms of their grant, the 
Company were bound to send out a large body of emigrants and negroes, and 
in August, 1718, two vessels arrived with a body of eight hundred men. 
Bienville foreseeing the future importance of a commercial capital to the vast 
valley of the Mississippi, determined to found a city on the borders of the 
river, though in the midst of a marshy and unhealthy country, which from the 
regent of France received the name of NEW ORLEANS ; which, to use the 
words of Bancroft, " was famous at Paris as a beautiful city almost before the 
cane-brakes were cut down, and which for some years consisted of but a hand- 
ful of dwellings." Law had reserved for himself the grant of an extensive 
tract, upon which he located a colony of Germans. During the bubble pros- 
perity of the paper system, money was lavishly expended in promoting enter- 
prise in Louisiana ; but with the bursting of the scheme, these foreign re- 
sources as suddenly ceased, and the settlers, who were dependent upon them, 
reduced to great distress. Instead of the visionary wealth of which they had 
dreamed, they now beheld the actual difficulties of their situation, in a low 
swampy country, exposed to the fierce beams of a tropical sun, and almost 
entirely indebted to slave labour for the cultivation of the soil. A military 
and religious establishment was kept up, but the progress of the colony for a 
long time was but sIoav. Serious difficulties also arose with the neighbouring 
Indians. The Natchez tribe, who had at first amicably received the French, 
and in whose territory Fort Rosalie had been erected, now became jealous of 
their growing demands for territory, and instructed by the Chickasaw tribes, 
and falling suddenly upon the Fort, massacred all the male inhabitants and 
carried away the women and children into slavery, but were shortly after- 
wards successfully repulsed. The Chickasaws, who traded with the English, 
and were instigated by them, attacked the French boats on the Mississippi, 
and defied several attempts made for their subjugation. A communication 
was nevertheless maintained with Canada by way of the Mississippi and 
Lake Michigan, as also by the Wabash river. 



216 GROWIXG DESIHE FOR INDEPENDENCE. [1700-50. 



CHAPTER III. 

GENERAL VIEW OF THE COLONIES BEFORE THE REVOLUTION. — POLITICAL CONDITION. — RELIGION* 

— EDUCATION. — THE PRESS. — SLAVERY.— STATE OF THE TOWNS AND COUNTRY. — MILITIA. — CUR* 
REXCY. — POST OFFICE, ETC. 

Before entering upon tlie narrative of the war wliich wrested Canada from 
the French, let us pause to take a brief survey of the general condition of the 
different States from that important period up to the revolution. Notwith- 
standing the widely different origin of the various colonists, the circumstances 
in which they were placed were so similar, that the same general form of charac- 
ter must inevitably have developed itself, and produced a growing consciousness 
of power and impatience of foreign restraint. The giant child of freedom had 
indeed burst its swaddling-bands, and was ready to walk in its own unassisted 
strength. The proximate independence of America was already a matter of 
certainty, although her gradual growth had veiled the truth from the eyes 
of English statesmen. The causes which were to produce a final rupture 
were already at work, though their full operation was delayed for a while by 
the want of union among the different provinces, and by their hereditary at- 
tachment to the parent country, under whose wings they had grown up, by 
whose arms they had been sheltered, by whose commerce, in spite of jealous 
restrictions, they were enriched, whose manners they affectionately cherished, 
and whose fashions they delighted to copy. This conflicting state of feeling — 
a growing desire of independence, and a no less warm attachment to the mo- 
ther country — may still be traced until the period of the declaration of inde- 
pendence. Not that the hereditary love of England was equally strong in all 
parts of America — witness the language of an acute observer, Feter Kalm, 
who visited New York in 1748. " The English colonies in this part of the 
world," he observes, " have increased so much in wealth and population, that 
they will vie with European England. But to maintain the commerce and 
the power of the metropolis, they are forbid to establish new manufactures 
which might compete Avith the English ; they may dig for gold and silver 
only on condition of shipping them immediately to England ; they have, with 
the exception of a fcAV fixed places, no liberty to trade to any parts not be- 
longing to the English dominions ; and foreigners are not allowed the least 
commerce with these American colonies. And there are many similar restric- 
tions. These oppressions have made the inhabitants of the English colonies 
less tender towards their mother land. This coldness is increased by the 
many foreigners who are settled among them ; for Dutch, Germans, and 
French are here blended with English, and have no special love for Old 



1700-50.] EFFECTS OF TEE FRENCH COLONIAL WAR. 217 

England. Besides, some people are always discontented and love change ; 
and exceeding freedom and prosperity nurse an untameable spirit. I have 
been told not only by native Americans, but by English emigrants, publicly, 
that, within thirty or fifty years, the English colonies in North America may 
constitute a separate state entirely independent of England. But, as this 
vfhole country is towards the sea unguarded, and on the frontier is kept un- 
easy by the French, these dangerous neighbours are the reason why the love 
of these colonics for their metropolis does not utterly decline. The English 
government has therefore to regard the French in North America as the chief 
power that urges their colonies to submission." The same view, as we shall 
hereafter see, was taken by the French themselves. John Adams, Avlicn a 
youth not quite twenty, cast a penetrating glance into futurity. " Soon after 
the Reformation," he says, " a few people came over into this new world for 
conscience' sake. Perhaps this apparently trivial circumstance may transfer 
the great seat of empire into America. It looks likely to me, for if we can 
remove the turbulent Gallics, our people, according to the exactest computa- 
tions, will in another century become more numerous than England itself. 
Should this be the case, since we have, I may say, all the naval stores of the 
nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain the mastery of the seas, and then 
the united force of Europe will not be able to subdue us. The only way to 
keep us from setting-up for ourselves is to disunite us." 

A few quotations from the most philosophical of modern historians — M. 
Guizot — may serve as a brief recapitulation of the political part of the preced- 
ing pages, and show the relative position of Britain and America at this period. 

" It is the honour of England that she had deposited in the cradle of her 
colonies — the germ of their freedom. Nearly all, at their foundation, or 
shortly after, received charters which conferred the franchises of the mother 
country on the colonists." 

" And these charters were not a vain display or dead letter, for they estab- 
lished or allowed powerful institutions which impelled the colonists to defend 
their liberty, and to control power by participating in it — the grant of sup- 
plies, the election of great public councils, trial by jury, the fight of as- 
sembling and of discussing the general affairs." 

" Thus the history of the colonies is only the more practical and laborious 
development of the spirit of liberty flourishing under the standard of the laws 
and traditions of the country. It might be considered the history of England 
herself. A resemblance the more striking, as the colonies of America, at least 
the greatest number and the most considerable of them, were founded or in- 
creased the most rapidly at the very epoch when England was getting ready 
for, or already sustained against the pretensions of absolute power, those fierce 
conflicts which were to obtain for her the honour of aivincf to the world the 
first example of a great nation free and well governed. 

" From 1578 to 1704, under EHzabeth, James I., Charles I., the Long Par- 
liament, Cromwell, Charles II., James II., WilHam III., and Queen Anne, 
the charters of Virginia, of Massachusetts, of Maryland, of Carolina, of New 

2 F 



218 DIVIDED POLICY OF THE STATES, [1700-50. 

lork, were by turns recognised, disputed, restrained, enlarged, lost, acquirea 
back again, incessantly exposed to those vicissitudes Avbich are the conditions 
and even the essence of liberty, for free nations can only pretend to peace in 
victory." 

He then well observes, that strife was rendered inevitable by the disorder 
subsisting between the elements of government. " In the cradle of the 
English colonies, side by side with their liberties, and consecrated by 
the same charters, three different powers came into contact : the crown, 
the proprietary founders, companies or individuals, and the mother coun- 
try. The crown, by virtue of the monarchical principle, with its tra- 
ditions flowing from the church and the empire. The proprietary founders, 
to whom a concession of the territory was made, by virtue of the feudal prin- 
ciple which attaches to property a considerable portion of sovereignty. The 
mother country, by virtue of the colonial principle, Avhich, in all times and 
amongst all nations, by a natural sequence of facts and ideas, has attributed 
to the metropolis a great empire over the populations sprung from its bosom. 

" From the beginning, and in events as in charters, the confusion amongst 
these powers was extreme, by turns dominant or lowered, united or divided, 
sometimes protecting the colonists and their franchises one agauist the other, 
sometimes attacking them in concert. In the midst of these confusions and 
vicissitudes all found titles to invoke, facts to allege in support of their acts 
and of their pretensions. 

*'* In the middle of the seventeenth century, when the monarchical principle 
was in England overcome in the person of Charles I., for awhile it might 
have been thought that the colonies would use the opportunity to shake off her 
sway. Indeed, some of them, Massachusetts above all, peopled by haughty 
Puritans, showed symptoms of a desire, if not to break every tie with the me- 
tropolis, at least to govern themselves alone and by their own laws. But the 
Eong Parliament, in the name of the colonial principle, and also in virtue of the 
rights of the crown which it inherited, maintained with moderation the British 
supremacy. Cromwell, in his turn, heir of the Long Parliament, exerted its 
power more signally, and by a skilful and firm protection, prevented or re- 
pressed in the colonies, whether Royalist or Puritan, those feeble yearnings 
after independence. 

" This was an easy task for him. At this epoch the colonies were feeble and 
divided. ToAvards 1640, Virginia counted only three or four thousand in- 
habitants, and in 1660, hardly thirty thousand. Maryland had at most twelve 
thousand. In these two provinces the royalist party was in the ascendency, 
and welcomed the restoration with joy. In Massachusetts, on the contrary, 
the general feeling was republican; the fugitive regicides, Goffe and "Whalley, 
found favour and protection there ; and when at last the local administration 
found itself obliged to proclaim Charles IE, it interdicted on the same day all 
uproarious demonstrations, all festivity, even to drink the king's health, 

" In such a state of things there was not yet either the moral unity or the 
material force which are necessary to lay the foundations of a state. 



1700-50.] DIFFICULTIES OF THE GOVERNORS. 219 

"After 1688, when England liacl finally aclileved a free government, its 
colonies partook but slightly of the benefits. The charters which Charles II 
and James II. had abolished or mutilated, were only partially restored to 
them. The same confusion reigned, the same struggle for sway continued. 
The greater part of the governors, sent from Europe, brief depositories of the 
royal prerogatives and pretensions, displayed them with more haughtiness 
than power in an administration in general incoherent, shifty, not very effi- 
cient, often rapacious, more occupied with selfish quarrels than with the 
interests of the country. 

" Besides, it was no longer with the crown alone, but with the crown and the 
metropolis united, that the colonists had to do. Their real sovereign was no 
longer the king, but the king and the people of Great Britain, represented 
and blended in parliament. And the parliament regarded the colonies al- 
most with the same eye, and held the same language with regard to them, 
which those kings whom it had vanquished had formerly affected towards the 
parliament itself. An aristocratic senate is the most difficult of masters. All 
possess the supreme poAver in it, and no one is responsible for its action." 

There could be but one solution of this difficult problem, and that — the 
independence of the colonists. In tracing their political progress, we have 
constantly before us the collision of two elements alluded to in the outset ; 
the tendency to self-government natural to men so situated, and the vain 
endeavour by the mother country to curb this tendency, and to restrict their 
growth within the limits required by a short-sighted policy. 

These opposite tendencies, inherently contradictory, could only be har- 
monized so long as the colonies remained feeble and threatened by French 
hostilities ; and at the height of wealth and power they had now reached, the 
difficulty of maintaining them in a state of subserviency became every day 
more manifest to far-seeing politicians. In this relative position of England 
and her dependencies the office of governor for the crown, essentially a false 
and painful one, became more and more embarrassing. Regarding him with 
jealousy as the asserter of an ill-defined prerogative, which tended to check 
their own freedom of action, the constant study of the local assemblies was 
to keep the minister of royal power in a state of humiliating dependence on 
their own authority, to vote him only a temporary supply, and thus to force 
him into a compliance with their demands ; and while, on the other hand, the 
home government were urging him by every means to maintain the royal 
supremacy, they were generally unwilling or unable to invest him with the 
necessary power to do so. Under trials such as these, poor Burnet had died 
of a broken heart ; some sunk into comiDliance with the popular will, " taking 
every thing and granting every thing ; " while others, irritated at the con- 
tinual oppositlcn of the colonists, denounced them as factious to the govern- 
ment, and accused them of a steady design by little and little to tln-ow ofi" the 
last vestiges of an allegiance that was already merely nominal. Nor can we be 
surprised that such should have been the uniform tenor, if not the avowed jDur- 
pose, of the colonial legislators. With the instinct of liberty they struggled 

2 r 2 



220 GO VERNMENT OF THE COLONIES NEGLECTED. [1700-50. 

against the imposition of a yoke wliicli was every day becoming more in- 
tolerable and unsuitable to their circumstances, by labouring in every way to 
grasp into their own hands the real legislative and executive power of their 
country, and to reduce the exercise of royal power to an emjjty form. It was 
in Massachusetts that this stubborn tenacity of purpose, this jealous watch- 
fulness and persevering agitation against even the slightest encroachment, this 
subtlety to watch for and improve opportunities of gradually extending its owii 
influence, and of nullifying that of the English government, was most con- 
spicuously displayed, because a sense of liberty and a shrewdness of intellect 
were the peculiar characteristics of her people, and because she had grown up 
at the first under a system of self-government. But the whole colonies 
were infected with the same sj)irit long before the breaking out of the 
Revolution. 

Looking from the colonists to the home government, it is evident that no 
regular and systematic plan Avas ever followed, either to remove the restric- 
tions that were felt to be galling, or to enforce on the other hand a more de- 
cided dependence on the king and parliament, even had such measiu'es been 
within the power of England to adopt. Engaged in domestic affairs, she be- 
stowed comparatively but little attention on her colonies, which were by turns 
capriciously neglected or oppressed, their giant growth overlooked, and the 
capacity and courage of their citizens contemptuously underrated. How- 
ever some might believe that they desired to throw off" the yoke of the mother 
country, few imagined that they would have the hardihood to try, or should 
they make the attempt, that it would require more than a slight exhibition of 
the national power, speedily to reduce them within the limits of dependency. 

We have already alluded to the establishment of the Board of Trade. This 
body were continually complaining that " the chartered colonies evaded the 
force of parliamentary enactments by making by-laws of their own, that they 
encouraged contraband trade and domestic manufactures, thereby injui"ing the 
monopoly of the mother country ; and as the only effectual remedy, proposed 
the resumption of their charters, and the imposition of such a system of ad- 
ministration as shall make them duly subservient to England;" and a bill 
was accordingly brought into parliament for this object. But the strenuous 
opposition made by the colonists to a scheme which would have deprived them 
of the almost practical independence which they enjoyed, caused it eventually 
to be laid aside. In 1702, the Jersey proprietors however ceded their rights 
of sovereignty to the crown. After the accession of the House of Hanover, 
when the functions of the Board of Trade were almost superseded by the secre- 
taryship of the colonies, other attempts were made to enact a bill for regulating 
the chartered governments. The disputes between the proprietaries of South 
Carolina and their colonists, who invoked the interference of the crown, furn- 
ished a welcome opportunity for vacating the charter, which was accord- 
ingly done, and a royal governor appointed, who however soon fovmd that 
the assembly left to him little more than the shadow of power. 

The population of the States had reached a million at the accession of the 



1700-50.] RESTRICTIONS ON MANUFACTURES, 221 

House of Hanover ; and it is remarkable that Pennsylvania, which had ap- 
peared but so recently on the list of States, owing to the absence of those 
difficulties with which the other States had to contend, had increased in pro- 
portion far more rapidly than any other. Although no exact estimate of the 
value of the colonial trade can be given, owing to the clandestine violation of 
the laws of trade, no register of which could be expected, it is supposed that 
the total value of exports must have amounted to not less than ten millions 
of dollars. Great Britain engrossed the principal share of this trade ; that to 
the West Indies came next ; that with the Spanish colonies of South America, 
forbidden both by English and Spanish enactments, was most profitable in 
proportion to its amount. The restrictions imposed by English jealousy and 
cupidity upon this vast and increasing commerce and manufactures of the 
colonies, were -the frequent source of bitter dissatisfaction, and the certain 
cause of a rupture that could not much longer be delayed. 

Upon complaint of the Board of Trade, that the colonial manufactures 
of wool and iron, paper, hats, and leather, were highly prejudicial to the 
home trade, the most unjust and vexatious restrictions were placed upon 
them. In regard, therefore, to commercial as to political disabilities, we 
cannot be surprised that there should have been the same persevering dis- 
position to evade or ignore them ; that the customs' agents were regarded 
with such dislike as to have complained that even their lives were not always 
safe in enforcing obnoxious regulations ; that the colonists, who regarded the 
English merchants as unjust and grasping, should have been less punctual in 
the liquidation of their claims, and the protection of their interests, than in 
the case of their own brethren, and that they should have laid a tax upon 
British imports and ships. This state of things was becoming insupportable to 
the Americans ; and the general feeling well appears in a private letter from 
a citizen of Boston to the Marquis de Montcalm, governor of Canada: " IVe 
shall soon break with England" he says, " for commercial considerations.'''' 

It had always been a special instruction given by the Americans to their 
agents in England, to oppose, by every means in their power, any measure 
which might tend, however remotely, to impose direct taxation upon the 
colonies. During the war of 1739, with Spain, such a scheme was proposed 
to Walpole, who replied as' follows-: — "I will leave that for some of my suc- 
cessors who may have more courage than I have, and be less a friend to com- 
merce than I am. Nay," he continued, " it has been necessary to pass over 
some irregularities of their trade with Europe, for by encoiiraging them to 
an extensive foreign growing commerce, if they gain £500,000, I am con- 
vinced that, in two years afterwards, full £ 250,000 of their gains \n\\ be in 
his Majesty's exchequer, by the labour and product of this kingdom, as im- 
mense quantities of every kind go thither, and as they increase in their 
foreign American trade, more of our produce will be Avanted. This is taxing 
them more agreeably to their own constitution and to ours." But this policy 
of a liberal and far-seeing minister was contrary to the narrow notions then 
prevailing with respect to commercial monopoly and colonial dependency. 



222 RELIGIO US TO LEE A TION IX NEW ENGLAND. [1700-50. 

It has been well observed, that America became a place of refuge for the 
different extremes of sectarianism which were driven from the old world, 
where their asperities became gradually softened, and their peculiarities mo- 
dified, and their professors fused together into one great commonwealth. Re- 
ligious enthusiasm had founded New England, and under the conduct of its 
theocracy it had been safely nursed through the perils that threatened its 
chiklhood. But the exclusive influence of the rigid Puritans was much weak- 
ened by the toleration of other sects, Avhich had been forced upon them by 
the English government, by a natural reaction against the extreme rigour of 
their principles and manners, and by the influence of philosophic progress in 
Europe. Even before the witchcraft delusion, in which the clergy had taken 
so prominent a part, many were their complaints of the growing Sadduceeism 
and latitudinarianism of the times, by which not a few even of their own 
body gradually became infected, until, whilst they still preserved in the pulpit 
the language of the old system, which the people were accustomed to hear, 
they secretly put upon it a latitudinarian construction, which it would have 
been imprudent openly to avow. 

From this period religion no longer exercised a predominating influence 
in political aflfairs, nor shaped after its own exclusive fashion the morals and 
manners of the community, although the mass of the people still retained their 
serious bias. The growing wealth of New England, and her intercourse with 
the mother country and foreign states, gradually introduced a more liberal way 
of thinking, with the arts and elegancies of polished life. The early days of re- 
ligious persecution were looked back upon with regret, and differing sects 
were fast learning to live together in harmony. The Quakers were no longer the 
same fierce and noisy enthusiasts, whose introduction into the colony had oc- 
casioned such sanguinary scenes ; but while they still retained the broad and 
distinctive features of their creed, as if ashamed of their former ebullitions, 
had subsided into that quiet and peaceable demeanour, and that sober respect- 
ability, of Avhich Penn himself was the type, and which have ever since re- 
mained the characteristic features of their body. 

The older divines were fast dropping off". Cotton Mather, whose name has 
repeatedly occurred in connexion Avith the maintenance of orthodoxy and the 
prosecutions for witchcraft, died in 1729, in the sixty-fifth year of his age. 
He Avas a pattern of serious piety, a perfect storehouse of school divinity, and 
his Avritings, quaint and pedantic in style, were proportionally voluminous ; 
but his confidence and conceit Avere boundless ; and, to use the expressive 
AA^ords of one of his brethren," Jie believed more and discriminated less" than 
belongs to a Avriter of history. 

In 1710, a Quaker meeting-house Avas erected in Boston. Episcopalianism 
also, once so odious, had noAV acquired a legitimate footing, and inore than 
one church for that form of worship Avas now erected in Boston. This creed 
also began to infect even some of the theocratic party, Cullen, principal of 
Yale college, proving a convert. With a view to check this tendency, no 
less than " the great and visible decay of piety," the orthodox ministry peti- 



1700-50.] REVIVAL UNDER GEORGE WHITFIELD. 223 

tionecl for a synod, but, owing to tlie influence of the Episcopalians, were un- 
able to succeed in their object. An abortive attempt had even been made by 
the " Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts " to introduce 
an episcopal hierarchy, as in the southern colonies. These attempts to pro- 
pagate episcopal government gave bitter offence to the theocratic clergy, and 
in the impending struggle, naturally inclined them to promote the cause of in- 
dependence. Indeed, among the grievances cited by the Bostonians in their 
quarrel with England, that of endeavouring to plant Episcopacy in New Eng- 
gland was afterwards distinctly mentioned. 

The growing latitudinarianism of the age received, however, a check, by 
the strenuous exertions of Whitfield and others of his stamp, and a consider- 
able reaction towards the old system, or, to use the proper word, " a great 
revival," took place among the churches. It is in connexion with this move- 
ment we find the name of Jonathan Edwards, one of the greatest intellects 
that America has ever produced. Fervent in his religious feelings, his intel- 
lectual faculties, which were of the highest order, were occupied in the de- 
fence of the Calvinistic doctrines, and in reconciling the denial of the moral 
ability of man with the assertion of his moral accountableness. His " In- 
quiry into the Freedom of the Will " has been pronounced " one of the 
greatest efforts of the human mind." Another remarkable divine of the 
same class was David Brainerd, Avho laboured most devotedly as a missionary 
among the Indians, and, worn out with toils and privations, died in the floAver 
of manhood. But the principal agent in promoting this resuscitation of piety, 
and in laying the foundation of Calvinistic Methodism in America, was Whit- 
field himself, the contemporary of Wesley, whose visit to Georgia has been al- 
ready described. Whitfield's purpose in coming over was the foundation of an 
orphan-house for destitute children in Georgia, for which he had collected con- 
siderable sums. Having successfully founded this establishment, he proceeded 
to visit the northern colonies, where the fire and energy of his character pro- 
duced the greatest excitement. Wesley, notwithstanding his profound enthusi- 
asm, was calm, grave, and reverend in appearance, rational and persuasive in his 
manner of discourse. Whitfield was vehement and passionate in his style of 
preaching, his gestures were striking and animated, his eye flashed with almost 
supernatural lustre, and the torrent of his eloquence irresistibly carried away all 
who heard him. Wesley was in tenets an Arminian — Whitfield a Calvinist. 
Wesley appealed to the judgment — Whitfield to the feelings of his audience. 
While, rapt out of himself, he triumphantly proclaimed the triumphs of Divine 
grace over the stubborn heart of man, his hearers, unable to restrain their 
emotions, would burst forth in sobs of agony or songs of thanksgiving, their 
frames would become convulsed under the poAverful emotions which had taken 
possession of their souls. The infection spread rapidly ; itinerant preachers, 
calling themselves " New Lights," ran every where about the land, singing 
processions and revivalist meetings were seen on all sides. The orthodox 
ministers, as in England itself, strenuously opposed themselves to the prevail- 
ing excitement, and some attempts were made at suppressing it by enactments. 



224 BISHOP BERKELEY'S WORK IN AMERICA. [1700-50. 

but in vain — all sects caught something of the prevailing enthusiasm, and the 
slumbering churches were quickened into new life and activity. AVhitfield 
visited the colonies several times, and died and was buried there in 1770. 

The progress of education was highly satisfactory, being far more generallj' 
diffused than in the mother country herself At the time of the revolution 
several colleges had been founded in the colonies. 

Free-schools were established in Massachusetts soon after the establishment 
of the colony, and to this measure was in a great extent owing the superior 
moral and intellectual character of her citizens. The north always took 
the lead in educational establishments. The foundation of Harvard college 
was noticed in a previous chapter. In 1701, a school for the education of 
ministers was established at Saybrook, where a scheme of doctrine and church 
government had been agreed on, known as the Saybrook platform, which 
brought the churches of Connecticut into a Presbyterian form. This estab- 
lishment afterwards received great benefactions from the Hon. Elihu Yale, a 
distinguished son of Connecticut, who had gone over to England when young, 
acquired a large fortune in India, when he became governor of Fort St. 
George, anyl w^s chosen governor of the East India Company. To this college 
Bishop Berkeley also, notwithstanding his Episcopalian principles, presented 
his library and estate in America. 

We should not here omit to notice one who exercised considerable influence 
in the cause of learning and the humanities. Berkeley has attained universal 
renown as the author of a celebrated treatise on the non-existence of matter, 
a theory which nobody believes in, and which nobody, it is said, has ever been 
able to refute. Visionary as he might be in the region of metapliysical ab- 
stractions, and, as Swift satirically called him, " an absolute philosopher with 
regard to money, titles, and power ; " the simplicity and purity of his charac- 
ter justified the well-known eulogium of Pope, ascribing to him " every virtue 
under heaven." Cherished at home in the most refined circles, and wealthy 
in a deanery worth £ 1100 a year, his expansive benevolence sought for a 
wide field of action abroad, and he proposed to the ministry a project for 
founding a college in Bermuda for the education of missionaries, to convert 
the Indians. Of this college he offered, resigning his preferment, to become 
rector, on a salary of a hundred a year. Having obtained a vote of £ 10,000 
of the House of Commons, he crossed over to Rhode Island, settling in the 
vicinity of the little town of Newport, afterwards the residence of Channing, 
where he bought a farm, and resided for two years and a half, with a view of 
making arrangements for the supply of his projected establishment. Here he 
often preached in the Episcopal church, to which he presented an organ, and 
in this rural retirement he penned, it is said, his jNIinute Philosopher. The 
virtues and accomplishments of such a man had no small effect in diffusing 
the love of knowledge, and a taste for social refinement, amidst the colonists, 
with whose unaffected good qualities and calm existence he was charmed. His 
enthusiasm was awakened by the vigorous freshness of Ainerican society, and 



1700-50.] EDUCATION IN THE COLONIES. 225 

the boundless prospect opening before it; and he here indited those celebrated 
verses, which have proved, in some respects at least, remarkably prophetic. 

" In happy climes, the seat of innocence, 

Where nature guides, and virtue rules ; 
Where men shall not impose for truth and sense 

The pedantry of courts and schools ; 

There shall be sung another golden age, 

The rise of empire and of arts ; 
The good and great inspiring epic rage, 

The wisest heads and noblest hearts. 

Not such as Europe breeds in her decay : 

Such as she bred when fresh and young, 
When heavenly flame did animate her clay, 

By future poets shall be sung. 

Westward the course of empire takes its way : 

The four first acts already past, 
A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; 

Time's noblest oflspring is the last." 

Disappointed of the promised support of government, Berkeley, bestowing 
his farm and library upon Yale college, though under the exclusive control 
of a denomination opposed to his own, returned to England, where he was 
shortly afterwards promoted to the bishopric of Cloyne. 

A high school was established at Philadeljjhia in 1689, to which a charter 
was granted by Penn. 

New York was less active in the work of education ; and it was not till 
1748 that a college called "King's" was founded. About the same time 
Princeton college in New Jersey was established. 

Maryland had organized county schools about twenty years before. 

Virginia was always backward in general education ; and a greater laxity 
of morals prevailed there. The first college in that state owed its origin to 
the zeal of James Blair, commissary of the bishop of London, who founded it 
by the assistance of King William, and other patrons, chiefly for the education 
of a succession of Episcopalian ministers, although many Indians were also 
taught there, in Avhose behalf the celebrated Eobert Boyle made a liberal 
donation. 

Education was sometimes coeval with the first opening of a road or clearing 
of the forest. Dartmouth college originated just before the revolution, in an 
Indian mission school at Lebanon, under the care of Dr. "VVheelock, Avhich 
attracted considerable attention, and drew subscribers even from England. 
This school was afterwards removed to Hanover, where the doctor resided in 
a log-hut while teaching his Indian neophytes, half of whom, however, re- 
turned to the savage life, for which they had an unconquerable bias. En- 
larging then the number of his white missionaries, and retaining but a few 
Indians, he founded Dartmouth college. His family, who travelled in a coach 

2 c 



22G THE FIRST AMERICA]^ NEWSPAPER. [1700-50. 

which had been presented to him by a London friend, had the greatest dif- 
ficulty in making their way to the sj)ot, an extensive plain almost covered 
with lofty pines, with but one or two log-huts, and not another habitation 
within two miles of dreary forest. The Doctor, having collected his family 
and scholars, amounting to seventy persons, hastily began to erect habitations 
to shelter them from the impending winter, which soon overtook them in all 
its rigour. So tall and thick were the pines around their little clearing, that 
the sun was invisible for hours, and while still and piercing cold below, the 
tops of the trees were seen bending under the fury of the tempest, while for 
four or five months the snow lay five feet deep around, through which they 
had to cut and keep open paths of communication from hut to hut. There 
the Doctor passed the long and dreary winter with his pupils,, sustaining his 
own spirits and theirs by referring to the smile of Heaven that had so evi- 
dently prospered their labours, and by calling to mind the propbet Elisha, 
who, by Divine direction, and in circumstances that to his pious mird offered 
a remarkable analogy, had founded in the wilderness of the Jorda'^ a school 
for training the prophets of the Lord. 

The press, that mighty engine of progress, though shackled ev^n in the 
mother country, was struggling into liberty and influence in the colonies. 
Their first newspaper Avas published in Boston on April 24th, 1704, by John 
Campbell, a Scotchman, bookseller and post-master in that city. It bore the 
title of the " Boston News Letter," and was printed on a small half-sheet of 
paper, in small type. Its first page contained an extract from the " London 
Flying Post," respecting the Pretender's sending Popish missionaries from 
France into Scotland, a project as enormous to the good people of Massnchu- 
setts as it was to the English themselves. The rest was filled up by the qu'^en's 
speech, four short local articles with paragraphs of marine intelligence, and 
one advertisement, being, in fact, that of the proprietor himself. Small as 
was its size, and meagre its list of contents, it might almost have vied with 
any then published in the mother country. Its infancy was feeble and Jnn- 
guishing, but it contrived to exist through many momentous changes, vmtil 
the year 1776. In New York, Governor Lovelace had been anxious to estab- 
lish a journal as early as 1668, and even sent, without success, to Bostoi? for 
a printer ; but James II. had strictly ordered Dorjan to allow no press in 
the colony. The first paper in New York, called the New York Gaz/^tte, 
appeared in October, 1725, and fell at length under the entire control of the 
governor, Cosby. An opposition journal, printed by John Peter Zenger, was 
started, as it is believed, under the auspices of Van Dam, lately president of 
the council, between whom and the governor a serious dispute had recf ntly 
arisen, Cosby demanded half the salary received by his predecessor, in virtue 
of an instruction from the ministry, during the thirteen months for ■^'rhich 
he had been commissioned on his arrival. As the governor had received more 
than this amount in perquisites. Van Dam retorted by demanding the b?lance. 
The quarrel agitated the legal tribunals, and was warmly taken up by X\e two 



1700-50.] HAMILTON'S DEFENCE OF ZENGER. 227 

opposition newspapers, which had recently been estaolisned, one devoted to 
the governor's cause, the other, published by Zenger, to the popular 
party. The governor, irritated by the charges and lampoons in Zenger's 
journal, succeeded in obtaining his imprisonment on a charge of publishing 
seditious libels. As the grand jury would find no bill against him, the at- 
torney-general filed an information. The counsel of the prisoner persisting 
in denying the legality of the judges' commission, on the ground that they 
had been arbitrarily appointed without consent of the council, they were 
struck off the roll of the advocates. When the trial came on, an aged Quaker 
lawyer, Andrew Hamilton, speaker of the Pennsylvania assembly, who had 
been secretly retained for the purpose, appeared to defend Zenger, alleging 
the justice of the charges as excusing the pretended libel. The truth of a 
libel, replied the chief justice, cannot be received in evidence. Hamilton, 
however, boldly appealed to the jury. The question before you, he said, is 
not tlie cause of a poor printer, nor of New York alone, it is the best cause, 
the cause of liberty. Every man who prefers freedom to a life of slavery, 
will bless and honour you as men who, by an impartial verdict, lay a noble 
foundation for securing to ourselves, our posterity, and our neighbours, that 
to which nature and the honour of our country have given us a right — the 
liberty of opposing arbitrary power by speaking and writing truth. The ver- 
dict of the jury, " Not guilty," was received by the auditors with loud shouts, 
which, spite of the threats of the court to imprison the leaders of the out- 
cry, resounded with louder and more deafening echoes through the hall. 
The triumphant advocate was conducted from the hall to a public entertain- 
ment, he received the franchises of the city in a gold box for his generous 
defence of the rights of the j^eople, and a salute of cannon was fired at his 
departure for his o"\^TnL home. 

Poor Zenger, however, was left to struggle with costs and difficulties, and 
appears to have made but a losing affair of his newspaper, if we may judge 
from a pathetic complaint not unfrequently echoed by modern American 
journalists. " My country subscribers," he says, " are earnestly desired to 
pay their arrearages for this journal, Avhich if they don't speedily, I shall 
leave off sending, and seek my money another way. Some of these kind 
customers are in arrears upwards of seven years ! Now, as I have served 
them so long, I think it is time, ay and high time too, that they gave me my 
outset, for they may verily believe that my every-day clothes are nearly 
worn out. N. B. Gentlemen, If you have not ready money with you, still 
think of the printer ; and when you have read this advertisement and con- 
sidered it, yqu cannot but say. Come, dame, (especially you inquisitive 
wedded men, let the bachelors take it to themselves,) let us send the poor 
printer a few gammons, or some meal, some butter, cheese, poultry, &c." 

The press however had scarcely as yet made a practice of taking up po- 
litical questions, which were generally discussed in pamphlets, chiefly printed 
at Boston. In 1740, the number of newspapers had increased to eleven ; one 
in Carolina, one in Virginia, three in Pennsylvania — one of them in German, 



228 EARLY CAREER OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIK. [1700-:0. 

one in New York, and five in Boston. In 1723, the controversies between 
the governor and people encouraged James Franklin to set up another 
newspaper at Boston, styled the " New England Courant," with a view of 
discussing subjects of popular interest in a liberal spirit of inqu.iry. Its 
commencement however was any thing but auspicious. The printer Avas 
shortly committed to prison for an article construed into contempt of the 
General Court ; and a still more unfortunate mistake was made by the pub- 
lisher's younger brother, Benjamin Franklin, whom we now first meet with 
in the humble guise of a spirited and hard-working journeyman printer, who 
carried about the sheets he had previously been engaged in writing and 
clothing in type. Some biting articles of the boy compositor, glancing at cer- 
tain cases of religious hypocrisy, were construed into ^' a tendency to mock reli- 
gion and bring it into contempt," and the venerable Mather, who sighed over 
the latitudinarianism of the times, complained that he " remembered the time 
when the civil government would have effectually suppressed such a cursed 
libel." Benjamin Franklin was summoned to receive a suitable admonition, 
and his brother, after being imprisoned, was forbidden to publish any thing 
until first submitted to a censorship. The paper, thus crijjpled, soon fell for 
want of support. Benjamin, with a few dollars in his pocket, sought a new 
field of employment in Philadelphia, where, putting in practice his own 
maxims of industry and frugality, he speedily laid the foundation of his future 
fortunes, became printer to the Assembly, and established a newspaper of his 
own. By twenty years' assiduous diligence he rendered himself independent, 
acquired a high standing among his fellow-citizens, and was selected to fulfil 
offices of weight and responsibility in the city of his adoption. 

The first literary periodical Magazine in America was established at Phila- 
delphia by his efforts, and he also gave a great impulse to the progress of 
education by the foundation of an academy and free-school, which afterwards 
grew up into the University of Pennsylvania ; Avhile his discoveries in elec- 
tricity rendered his name famous throughout Europe, 

" At the time when I established myself in Philadelphia," he observes in 
his Autobiography, " there was not a good bookseller's shop in any of the 
colonies to the southward of Boston. In New York and Philadelphia, the 
printers were indeed stationers, but they sold only paper, almanacs, ballads, 
and a few common school-books. Those who loved reading were obliged to 
send for their books from England — the members of the Junto had each a few. 
Finding the advantage of this little collection, I proposed to render the benefit 
more common by commencing a public subscription library." At first there 
were but few supporters, but at last reading became fashionable ; and having 
no public amusements to divert their minds from study, the citizens of Phila- 
delphia were observed to be better instructed and more intelligent than 
people of the same rank elsewhere. 

We must now turn to an institution, the ultimate consequences of which it 
is imj)ossible to foresee, pregnant as it is with the seed of perpetual dissension 



1 :00-50. ] SLA VE TRADE EN CO URA GED B Y ENGLA ND. 229 

between the northern and southern colonies. The first introduction of shives 
into Virginia occurred in 1620, by a Dutch trading vesseL The Portuguese 
had originated the practice of buying negroes on the coast of Africa, and sell- 
ing them in the American colonies, a traffic so gainful that the Spanish 
Dutch, and English soon followed their example. For some time, however 
but few slaves Avere introduced. 

The traders of Massachusetts engaged in the same traffic, disposing of their 
slaves for the most part in the West India islands. By degrees the introduc- 
tion of negroes became universal, and as their number increased, the legisla- 
tion with regard to them became more defined and severe. Slavery was de- 
clared hereditary, and while the intermarriage of free white women with 
negroes was declared " shameful," and the offender punished by being held 
as the slave of her husband's master, the children of black women, by pro- 
miscuous intercourse with their white masters, followed the fortunes of the 
mother. Runaways who refused to return to their masters might be la^v^rfully 
put to death. The conversion of the slave to Christianity, it was decided, 
occasioned no rupture of his bonds ; though it was indeed at one time sup- 
posed that no Christian could lawfully be brought into slavery. The number 
of slaves introduced, though as yet not very numerous, Avas often felt by the 
planters to be out of proportion to their requirements, especially as it soon 
became cheaper to breed slaves at home than to purchase them from abroad. 
The cessation, in 1698, of the monopoly of the Koyal African Company, 
and the Assiento treaty, by which the South Sea Company obtained the pri- 
vilege of bringing negroes into the Spanish territories, gave increased impulse 
to the trade, Avhich was now carried to its height. Henceforth the traffic 
became extremely lucrative ; all classes, from the highest to the lowest, 
engaged in it without scruple. " English ships," says Bancroft, " fitted out 
in English cities, under the special favour of the royal family, of the ministry, 
and parliament, stole from Africa, in the years from 1700 to 1750, probably 
a million and a half of souls, of whom one eighth were buried in the Atlantic." 
It now became the policy of government and the interest of merchants to 
flood the shores of America with importations of negroes, in spite of the 
repeated protestations of the colonists themselves, and no less the duty of 
the royal governors to enforce this policy, and, to use the words of an English 
statesman of the period, " not to allow the colonies to check or discourage in 
any degree a traffic so beneficial to the nation." 

Notwithstanding the deplorable apathy which all classes exhibited as to the 
atrocious injustice of this system, and the plausible arguments with which 
even men of the highest reputation contrived to reconcile themselves to its 
existence, there were never wanting, even from the first, a few clear-sighted 
and faithful men who denounced it in its real light. 

When the lawfulness of slavery was first discussed in an English court, and 
it was alleged that, as " being usually bought and sold among merchandise, 
and aho being injidels, there might lawfully be a property in them," Chief 
Justice Holt repeatedly declared that there is no such thing as a slave by the 



230 SLAVERY IN THE NORTH AND SOUTH. [1700-50. 

law of England. It is to the honour of Oglethorpe that he steadily set him- 
self against the introduction of slavery into Georgia, in spite of all the re- 
quisitions of his colonists, avIio desired to follow the example of their Caro- 
linian neighbours, and toasted at their banquets the introduction of slavery 
as the "one thing needful;" nor could it be established until after his de- 
parture from the country. Yet the great majority were abused, and lent 
themselves to the traffic without suspicion. Even men like Whitfield, losing 
sight of the clear principles of human rights in the blaze of religious enthu- 
siasm, decided, that provided slaves were but taken " in faith, and with the 
vicAV of conducting them to Ckrist," the action will not be a sin, but prove a 
benediction. 

In the northern states, slavery, however, never became part and parcel of 
the social system, but was a mere excrescence, which only awaited the progress 
of public opinion to be swept away. In Massachusetts, and the New Eng- 
land States, the negroes were principally used as domestic servants. INIanu- 
mission was not unfrequent, and slavery there Avas comparatively mild. In 
New York, the proportion of slaves was larger, and the code for their 
government more harsh. In Pennsylvania, Penn had vainly endeavoured to 
obtain laAVS for the moral improvement of the slaves, but to little purpose, since 
the instinct of slaveholders teaches them that to ameliorate the moral and 
religious condition of their slaves is to pave the way for their eventual en- 
franchisement. Some of the Quakers having proposed abolition, the assembly 
determined that this measure was neither "just nor convenient," though 
they laid an import duty on, intended to prevent further importations. The 
southern States, especially the Carolinas, Avcre the stronghold of the system. 
Here the negroes amounted to one third of the entire population, and the 
climate, and staples of cultivation, tended to radicate slavery in the soil. The 
cultivation of rice and indigo rapidly increased the wealth of the planters, 
the numbers of the slaves Avas multiplied, and with a cruel contradiction, 
just in proportion as their labour became the source of wealth, their bonds 
were rendered more stringent, and their condition more hopeless. In 1740, 
an act was passed, which still remains in force, by which all " negroes, Indians, 
and Mestitzoes, and all their issue, shall for ever hereafter be absolute 
slaves, held as chattels personal ;" an enactment subjecting even the most dis- 
tant descendant to the same miserable doom. 

Such, at the period of which we are treating, -was the condition of Ame- 
rica in regard to slavery; already shaken in the northern colonics, and shortly 
destined to be abolished, but no less firmly rooted in the south ; partly from 
local necessity, partly from the cupidity of the settlers themselves, and partly 
by the commercial avarice of the mother country. Of the two great leaders 
of the impending revolution, Washington and Franklin, the former was a 
slaveholder, and the latter was an abolitionist. 

Before the revolution, as Sullivan observes, the distinctions of society were 
more marked than at present. The royal goA^crnors often lived in splendid style. 



1700-50.] THE CITY AND PEOPLE OF BOSTON, 231 

and formed tlie centre of a society composed of " persons in of&ce, the ricTi, and 
those who had connexions in England, of which they were very proud." 
These were the gentry of the country, before the war. Modes of life, man- 
ners, and personal decoration, were the indications of superiority. As most 
of the gentry embraced the side of government, the commencement of hos- 
tilities drove a large portion of them from the colony ; but the same indica- 
tions continued among some who remained, and adhered to the patriot side. 
There was a class of persons, no longer known, who might be called the 
gentry of the interior. They held very considerable landed estates, in imita- 
tion of the landowners in England. These persons were the great men in 
their respective counties. They held civil and military offices, and were 
members of the General Court. This sort of personal dignity gradually dis- 
appeared with the democratic tendency which followed the revolution- 
ary war. 

The " wilderness condition," as the Puritan fathers called it, during which 
they had endeavoured to restrain extravagance and excess by sumptuary 
regulations, had long since passed a-\vay, and with increasing wealth, display 
had been gradually creeping in to both the habitations and dress of the 
people. There is a quaint and old-f;ishioned luxury in such a picture as the 
following : " In the princij^al houses of Boston," says the writer, " there Avas 
a great hall, ornamented with pictures, and a great lantern, and a velvet 
cushion in the window-seat that looked into the garden. A large bowl of 
punch was often j^laced in the hall, from Avhich visitors might help themselves 
as they entered. On either side was a great parlour, a little parlour, or studj-. 
These were furnished with great looking-glasses, Turkey carpets, window 
curtains and valance, pictures and a map, a brass clock, red leather-back 
chairs, and a great pair of brass andirons. The chambers Avere well sup- 
plied with feather-beds, wai-ming-pans, and every other article that would 
now be thought necessary for comfort or display. The pantry was well 
filled with substantial fare, and dainties — prunes, marmalade, and Madeira 
wine. Silver tankards, wine cups, and other articles of plate were not un- 
common, and the kitchen was completely stocked with pewter, iron, and cop- 
per utensils. Very many families employed servants, and in one we see a 
Scotch boy, valued among the property, and invoiced at £14." Negro slaves 
also often formed part of a New England household of that , day. Even 
before this period, in the matter of dress, certain of the ladies Avcre eager 
to copy the London and Paris fashions, as we learn from a splenetic old 
writer. " INIethinks," he says, " it should break the heart of Englishmen to 
see so many goodly Englishwomen imprisoned in French cages, peering out 
of their hood-holes for some men of mercy to help them with a little wit ; " and 
bitterly complains of their eagerness to learn wJiat dress the queen is in, and 
to copy it in all haste. As mention is here made of pictures, we may observe 
that the first portrait painter in America was John Smibert, a Scotch artist, 
who came over with Berkeley, and painted that picture of the bishop and his 
family which is preserved at Yale College. An art so pleasing was not long 



232 iV^PT YORK BEFORE THE REVOLUTION. [1700-50. 

in making its way over the colonies, and lias preserved to posterity the youtti- 
ful appearance of Washington. But though art and literature were making 
their way, public amusements were still froAvned upon by the New England 
magistrates. Otway's play of The Orphan was acted in 1750, at a coffee-house 
in Boston ; but such exhibitions were forthwith prohibited, as " tending to 
discourage industry and frugality, and greatly to increase impiety and con- 
tempt of religion." A London company of actors contrived however, shortly 
afterwards, to gain a footing in New York, Philadelphia, and different towns 
of the south. 

Under the Dutch, New York must have presented a curious spectacle, as 
though some town of the old country, with its quaint architecture and cum- 
brous costume, had been transplanted bodily across the ocean, and set down 
in the midst of the swamps and forests of the new world. An old engraving of 
the Stadt Huis, or Town Hall, with the adjacent buildings, might be taken for 
a view in Amsterdam. The mayor at the head of the city militia was accus- 
tomed to parade before it, and every evening at sun-set received from the prin- 
cipal guard of the fort, which could lodge three hundred soldiers, and mounted 
forty guns, the keys of the city, and then proceeded with a guard of six men 
to lock the city gates and place a Burger wagt, or citizen guard, at different 
posts. Before sun-rise he was again on his rounds to open the said gates, and 
restore the keys to the officer. Many and high-sounding were the titles of 
the Dutch officials ; there was the Heer Officier, or high sheriff, De Fiscael, 
or attorney-general, the Wees INIeisters, or guardians of orphans, and the 
Koy Meisters, or regulators of fences, the Groot Burgerreicht and the Klein 
Burgerreicht, or great and small citizenship, which divided society into aris- 
tocrats and democrats, with more than we can here enumerate. With the 
cession of the colony to the English, their habits and manners gradually pre- 
dominated over those of the Dutch. A century -ago the Broadway of New 
York exhibited all the picturesque fashions of the period. A New York beau 
then wore a gorgeous coat of red plush, with large cuffs, and huge three- 
plaited skirts, stiffened with buckram wadding ; the neck was studiously low, 
to exhibit his plaited stock of fine linen, and the large silver buckle beliind ; 
ruffles with golden sleeve buttons invested his wrists, his breeches were of 
the same material as his coat, with sillc stockings, and high-heeled shoes adorned 
with buckles. The little boys wore nearly the same ponderous costume 
as their papas. 

Although the towns along the seaboard were increasing in prosperity, and 
the country intervening between them was gradually filled up with settlers, 
hardly a village was to be found at more than a hundred miles from the coast, 
and a vast wilderness interposed between the outj)osts of the English and 
the forts of the French on the western waters. The Blue Eidge long con- 
tinued to be the boundary of Virginia, and it was not until ITIO that 
Lieutenant-Governor Spotswood, Avith a large retinue, penetrated its defiles, 
and first laid open the mountains and vales of the Alleghany district to the 
enterprise of pioneers. 



1700-50.] THE AMERICAN BACKWOODSMEN. 233; 

As the population of Virginia and Carolina j)ressed eagerly across the tracks 
thus formed, a new form of character, the American backwoodsman, began to 
spring up among the western forests. As none but the most vigorous and 
athletic ventured to establish themselves in the vicinity of hostile Indians, 
these new settlers were generally men of extraordinary physical strength, 
and nerved into tenfold hardihood by a continual struggle with the wilder- 
ness and its Indian tenants, who resented this intrusion upon their imme- 
morial hunting grounds. The character of such men was necessarily half 
savage and half civilized, and they adopted a costume greatly resembling that 
of the aborigines themselves. A fur cap, buck-skin pantaloons, or leggings of 
dressed deer-skin, ornamented after the Indian fashion, with a loose hunting 
shirt, in the capacious bosom of which were stowed away a store of jerked beef 
and bread, with other hunter requisites, girt round the waist with a belt, to which 
were fastened the tomahawk and the scalping knife, with Indian mocassins, or 
leathern sandals for the feet, and the invariable rifle over his shoulder — such 
was the dress of one of these western pioneers. Their habitations were log-huts 
surrounded by a stockade, made bullet proof for protection against their Indian 
foes. The furniture was of the rudest description, and the shaggy skins of 
the bear, buffalo, and deer furnished the stock of bedding. Their food con- 
sisted principally of the rich variety of game furnished by the chase, among 
which the flesh of the bear was highly prized. As the clearing around his 
hut began to exj)and its boundaries, many were the farinaceous delicacies 
that covered the settler's board ; \he Johnny-cake, made of corn meal, Jiom- 
mony, or pounded corn thoroughly boiled, and other savoury preparations 
of flour and milk. Hunting was the j)rincipal winter occupation of the back- 
woodsman, and " as soon as the leaves were pretty well down, and the weather 
became rainy, he began to feel uneasy at home. Every thing about him 
became disagreeable. The house Avas too warm, the bed was too soft, and 
even the good wife for the time was not thought a good companion." A j)arty 
was soon formed, and on the ajjpointed day the little cavalcade, with horses 
carrying flour, meal, blankets, and other requisites, were on their way to the 
hunting camp. This was always formed in some sheltered and sequestered 
spot, and consisted of a rude cabin, with the log-fire in front, and moss and 
skins for the couches. It was to the spoils of the chase that the backwoods- 
men trusted for the skins and furs to barter for the few necessaries they re- 
quired from the eastern states, to which a caravan was usually despatched for 
the purpose. As the settlements increased, every neighbourhood was furn- 
ished with a strong timber fort, to which the inhabitants might return in 
case of attack, some of which were so strong as to resist the most formidable 
Indian army. 

Beyond the limits of civilization, and untrammeled by law or gospel, every 
man did that which was right in his own eyes. Yet the moral feeling of 
society was often a greater terror to the delinquent than judge or jury, 
for if he offended it he was liable to be "hated from the place" or in grave 
cases, subjected to the summary process of Lynch law, which, though some- 



234 UNCIVILIZED CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE. [1700-rO. 

times abused, was no doubt, upon the whole, a salutary terror to offenders. 
A body of citizens, calling themselves regulators, would repair to the dwelling 
of the culprit, who being tied to a tree, Chief-justice " Birch^' forthwith 
established his tribunal and pronounced the sentence, which was carried into 
execution with no gentle hand. If the conduct of any individual was im- 
peached by another, the matter was decided by an appeal to fisticuffs, or 
*' rough and tumble," with fists, feet, and teeth, but knives and fire-arms 
were not allowed to be used. The contest decided, both parties would shake 
hands and be better friends than ever. A kindred, but still more lawless, 
race were the hardy hoatmev, who now began to explore and navigate the 
western waters, propelling their rafts, or flat boats, with incredible toil against 
the current for thousands of miles together. Kejoicing to exhibit the 
strength they acquired in these Herculean labours, they delighted in pugilistic 
encounters ; keel-boatmen and flat-boatmen regarded each other as their 
np^ural enemies, and their meeting was always signalized by a general 
encounter, and their riotous and lawless assemblages set at defiance the feeble 
arm of the civil power. 

These western people, in visiting the old cities on the sea-board, were re- 
garded by the inhabitants as a sort of barbarians, whom they in their turn 
despised for their effeminate habits. " Children who had been raised on the 
frontiers," says Doddridge, "when they reached the settlements east of the 
mountains, were surprised to find that all houses were not made of logs and 
chinked with mud, that all dishes and table ware were not of pewter and 
wood. To them the luxuries of tea and coffee were nauseous or unknown, 
and they ' wondered how people could show a fondness for such slops,' which 
had neither gust to the palate, nor stuck to the ribs.' The cups and saucers 
from which it was drunk were themselves but emblems of a depraved taste 
and unmanly luxury, or, at most, were adapted to the effeminate or the sick." 

No settlement was effected in Vermont until the year 1724, when the 
government of Massachusetts built Fort Dummer, on the Upper Connecticut. 
This was the western outpost of civilization in this direction, and the rich 
lands of this district remained unsettled until after the French war, when 
a road was cut by the New England troops from Charlestown in New Hamp- 
shire, to the French fort at Crown Point on Lake Champlain, thus discover- 
ing the fertility of these lands, which after the peace were eagerly coveted 
and rapidly settled. 

The town of Albany, at that time on the edge of a boundless uncleared 
wilderness, was the western outpost of civilization, and must have presented a 
singularly curious and picturesque appearance. Originally founded by the 
Dutch, it had successively received the name of Fort Orange, Bevcrwyk, and 
Williamstadt, until, after the English conquest, it received the name which it 
has ever since retained. It was surrounded by a stockade of pine logs. 
The fort, a post of no small importance on the frontier of a country full of wild 
Indians, was massive and strong ; just below it was the English church, and 
the old Dutch church, of quaint and antique appearance. The architecture 



1700-50.] MANNERS AND CUSTOMS IN ALBANY. 235 

was like that of Delft, or Leyden ; all the houses stood with their angular 
zigzag gables turned to the street, with long projecting gutter pipes, which, 
like those of the towns of continental Europe at the present day, discharge 
their unsavoury current of dirty water or melted snows upon the heads 
of the unwary passengers. The sfoopes, or porches, were furnished with 
side-seats, well filled in the evening with the inmates, old and young, of both 
sexes, who met to gossip or to court, while the cattle wandered almost at will 
about the streets of the half-rustic city. In the interior of the dwellings, 
Dutch cleanliness and economy were established ; the women, as at the present 
day in Holland, were considered over-nice in scrubbing their floors, and 
burnishing their brass and pewter vessels into an intensity of lustre. From 
the dawn of day until late at night they were engaged in the work of purifi- 
cation. They lived too with exemplary sobriety ; breakfasting on tea without 
milk and sweetened by a small bit of sugar passed round from one to the 
other ; they dined on butter-milk and bread, and if to that they added sugar, 
it was esteemed delicious, though sometimes tliey indulged in broiled and 
roasted meats. The use of stoves was unknown, and the huge fire-places, 
through which one might have driven a waggon, furnished with ample logs, 
were grand and cozy nestling-places during the long winter evenings, which the 
Avail of the snow storm and the roar of the forest trees rendered more deliciously 
secure. Under the English the same simplicity of manners long prevailed. 

Albany was the grand depot for the Avestern fur trade, for more than a cen- 
tury. Ciu-iously contrasted Avith the quaint and prim costume of its Dutch 
inhabitants, were constantly seen, in those days, the dusky face and savage 
finery of the Indian chiefs. Here, glorious in all the refinement of paint 
and feathers, and armed Avith the boAV and the tomahaAvk, assembled the grave 
and dignified Sachems of the once poAverful Five Nations. Here the pipe of 
peace Avas smoked, and treaties of peace entered into, Avith these redoubtable 
chieftains. Here, too, often assembled, with a rude display of military pomp, 
the militia, destined to act against the French in Canada, betAveen AAdiich 
country and the Hudson there extended a A'ast wilderness, Avhere the Indians 
yet roamed unmolested, and intersected only by one or tAvo roads leading 
through interminable morasses and forests. 

These provincial militia Avere " strong of limb, swift of foot, and excellent 
marksmen, the hatchet Avas as familiar to them as the rifle ; in short, Avhen 
means and arguments could be used poAverful enough to collect a people so 
uncontrolled and so uncontrollable, and Avhen, headed by a leader Avhom 
they loved and trusted, a well-armed body of New York prcTincials had 
nothing to dread but an ague or an ambuscade." To the fo^aier they Avere 
far better acclimated than the British regulars, and in the latter dilemma 
displayed greater readiness and presence of mind. The provincial troops are 
contemptuously described by an English authority as "a poor, mean, ragged 
set of men of all ages, and sizes, and costumes," but their officers as slirewd 
and sensible, making " a decent appearance in blue uniforms faced with 
scarlet, gilt buttons, with laced Avaistcoats and hats. The active and enter- 



233 CONDITION OF THE PROVINCIAL MILITIA. [1700-50. 

prising corps of Rangers, whose exploits are so often heard of during the 
succeeding wars, adopted a costume better suited for bush-fighting, something 
resembhng that of the Iliglilanders. Their uniform was made of black frieze, 
faced with blue, and consisted of a waistcoat, with a jacket without sleeves, 
canvass drawers, and long leggings, buttoning like spatterdashes, and blue 
bonnets. To these provincials were shortly after added large detachments of 
the English troops, which rendezvoused at Albany, and whose gay and gallant 
officers were received here and elsewhere with frank hospitality by the admiring 
colonists. When John Adams was a young lawyer at Worcester in Massachu- 
setts, then a little village containing fifteen hundred inhabitants, the British army 
destined for Canada, with Lord Londoun, the hopeless procrastinator, the 
youthful Lord Howe, of whose fate we shall shortly have to speak, and Sir 
Geoffrey, afterwards Lord Amherst, passed through the place. " Here," 
says Mr. Adams, " we had an opportunity of seeing the officers and army. 
The officers were social, spent their evenings and took their suppers with 
such of the inhabitants as were able to invite them, and entertained us with 
their music and dances. Many of them were Scotchmen in their j)laids, and 
their music was delightful, even the bagpipe was not disagreeable. General 
Amherst lodged with Colonel Chandler the elder, and was very inquisitive 
concerning his farm, insisting on rambling over the whole of it. The excellent 
order and discipline observed by these troops revived the hopes of the 
country, which were viltimately fully satisfied by the entire conquest of 
Canada with the half of the militia of the country, which were sent on to 
their assistance with great confidence." 

The British troops were regarded with pride and emulation by the colonial 
militia, although the latter often felt their proud and untamed spii-its swell at the 
airs of superiority assumed by their better appointed and disciplined, but not 
braver, fellow-soldiers, and they sometimes refused to serve under any but 
their own officers, who knew and valued their spirit. It was in the ensuing 
wars, and in serving with the royal troops, that these colonial officers acquired 
that military experience which they afterwards turned to such dear account 
in their struggle with the mother country. Li this school were trained not 
only Gates, and Montgomery, and others, who, though they took the j^art of 
the colonists, were themselves natives of Britain, but those brave sons of the 
soil, who afterwards became conspicuous in the annals of the revolutionary 
struggle, Putnam, Willett, Stark, Wooster, Schuyler, and a host of other 
chiefs, whose exploits, although less prominent in the general outline of his- 
tory, contrib -ted not a little to the ultimate independence of their country. 

It may be well imagined that the intercourse between colonies separated 
by wide intervals of country, few parts more than half settled, and in many 
places almost a profound wilderness, was of course very imperfect. The postal 
communication of America seems to have originated in Virginia soon after the 
arrival of Andros, who succeeded Lord Howard of Effingham as governor. 
By royal patent Thomas Neale was authorized to establish a post for the de- 



1700-50.] THE POST-OFFICE IN THE DIFFERENT STA TES. 237 

spatcli of letters and parcels, and this example was slowly followed m the other 
States, altliougli it was not until the revolution, when Franklin became post- 
master-general, and the colonies were more vitally united, that any great 
improvement took place in this important establishment. 

At the period of Franklin's first appointment, the following advertisemen 
was put forth. " Oct. 2Tth, 1737. Notice is hereby given, that the post- 
office of Philadelphia is now kept at B. Franklin's, in Market Street, and that 
Henry Pratt is appointed riding postmaster for all the stages between 
Philadelphia and Newport in Virginia, who sets out about the hegimring of 
eacli month, and returns in tiventy-four days, by whom gentlemen, merchants, 
and others may have their letters carefully conveyed, and business faithfully 
transacted, he having given good security for the same to the Honourable 
Colonel Spotswood, postmaster-general of all his Majesty's dominions in 
America." Improvement was not very rapid. Six years afterwards the post to 
New York went once a week, and that into Virginia once a fortnight. Even 
in England, where the roads are now brought to such perfection, they were 
at that time generally in a very bad condition. In America they are still bad 
enough, and were then doubtless so bad as at times to be all but impassable 
for carriages, and even for horsemen. The journey from Worcester to 
Praintree, a distance of about seventy miles, took John Adams no less than 
five days to accomplish. 

The settlers of the New England colonies first effected their transactions 
by barter, and afterwards made use of beaver-skins, musket-balls, and 
wampum beads, as a circulating medium, three of these beads passing for a 
penny. In Virginia, tobacco was long the only currency of the colonists. 
By degrees, necessity led to the introduction of coin and paper money. The 
first coin was struck in New England in about the year 1650. Much bidlion 
was brought to that province by the buccaneers, and it was thought advisable, 
in order to prevent fraud, to erect a mint for shillings, sixpences, and three- 
pences, with no other impression at first than NE. on one side, and XII., VI., or 
III. on the other; brit in October, 1651, it was decreed by the court, that the 
coinage should have on one side a pine tree in the centre, with MASSACHU- 
SETTS around it, and NEW ENGLAND, with the year of our Lord, upon the 
other. Little notice seems to have been taken of this measure by the home 
government, and this currency does not appear to have been much circulated 
beyond the bounds of the colony itself. It is said that the mint-master, Jolin 
Hull, received one shilling in every twenty for his labours, by which contract 
he became so Avealthy as to give his daughter, upon her marriage, her own 
weight in these pine-tree shillings, as her portion. The expense of the inter- 
colonial wars occasioned the first emission of paper money. The troops were 
mutinous for their pay, and would not wait until a tax could be raised for 
them in specie ; and their claims were therefore satisfied by these new-coined 
notes, which in spite of the governor's exchanging a large number of them at 
par, soon sunk far below their nominal value, but were raised in value by an 



238 THE FIRST ISSUE OF PAPER MONEY. [1700-50. 

expedient of the government allowing five per cent._ to tliose who paid the 
taxes in notes. Hereafter the creation of paper money upon any emergency 
became a favourite expedient of the assembly, who generally forced the go- 
vernor to accede to it. 

What necessity had first created, was now continued, partly from the ab- 
sence of a sufficiency of metallic currency, which was drawn off for payments 
to the mother country, and partly out of the spirit of speculation inherent in 
a new colony, where capital has not yet had time to accumulate. In spite of 
the strenuous opposition of the home government, successive emissions of 
paper money became the favourite expedient of the colonial assemblies, and 
though its immediate effect was to give an impulse to trade, it was not long 
before the enormous evils and abuses incident to its unlimited use developed 
themselves to an alarming extent. In sj)ite of every legislative contrivance, 
the value of the paper rapidly sank, debtors availed themselves of it as legal- 
ized tender to escape from the claims of their creditors, persons with fixed 
incomes were almost ruined, and commerce became unsettled by the very ex- 
pedient designed for its promotion. At length, in 1751, the evil became so 
intolerable in Massachusetts, that it was decided, though not without great 
opposition from interested parties, to redeem the paper at a little less than 
its current value^ while an act of parliament was obtained, prohibiting the 
future issue of any bills of credit for which provision was not made within 
the tAvelvemonth. These restrictions were among the causes that tended 
to produce a feeling of ill-will to the mother country. 

Having thus taken a general though imperfect survey of the condition of 
the colonies at the close of the intercolonial wars, we next j^roceed to narrate 
the conquest of Canada; which, by delivering the colonists from any further 
apprehension of the French, tended to remove the principal check upon their 
aspirations for independence, and to bring about, almost immediately after- 
ward, the memorable revolution by which it was successfully achieved. 



1747.] PROSPECT OF WAR WITH THE FRENCH. 239 



CHAPTER IV. 



nXAL STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE FRENCH AND ENGLISH, TERMINATING IN THE CONQUEST OP 
CANADA, AND THE CESSION OF NORTH AMERICA TO THE BRITISH CROWN. 



The designs of the Frencli had long given serious anxiety to the English 
government. The discovery of the Mississippi and the great lakes by the 
former has been aheady described^ and to this vast region, including even 
the tributaries of the great river which extended to the very frontiers of 
Pennsylvania and Virginia, they now laid claim. They had already estab- 
lished numerous military -and trading posts, from the frontiers of Canada to 
the recently founded city of New Orleans, and where they had been unable 
thus to take formal possession of the soil, they had endeavoured to found a 
right of pre-occupation, by sinking plates of metal in the ground, or carving 
the lilies of Prance upon the bark of the forest trees. On the other hand, the 
different English grants had extended in theory on a line direct westward to 
the Pacific Ocean, thus setting up a counter-pretension to the same lands to 
which the French asserted a right by the more direct title of discovery. It is 
hardly necessary to say, that to this disputed territory neither party had any 
fair title whatsoever, since the lands had never been ceded by the natives, who, 
when appealed to as arbiters of a dispute, are said to have inquired by way 
of reply, " where lay the Indian lands, for the French claimed all on one 
side of the river, and the English all on the other." So long as the latter 
confined themselves to the sea-board, their claims attracted comparatively but 
little attention from their rivals, but as they began to push their settlements 
across the Alleghany mountains, and to encroach upon what the French re- 
garded as their rightful limits, it became evident that a collision could not be 
much longer deferred. 

Soon after the peace, a body of London merchants and Virginian land 
speculators had been incorporated as the " Comj^any of the Ohio," for settling 
the borders of that stream, which, from the fertility of its shores and the beauty 
of its scenery, had justly obtained from the French the appellation of " La 
Belle Pivitre." As the great object was to obtain a footing in the soil, this 
Company forthwith proceeded to establish the post of Hedstone, on the 
Monongahela river — a step, of course, regarded as an aggression by the 
French, who built a new fort on the shores of Lake Erie, and were evidently 
preparing to drive out the competitors, and take possession of the disputed 
territory. In anticipation of this step. Governor Dinwiddie had already sent 
out a messenger in the guise of a trader, to ascertain the temper of the 



240 SCHOOL-DAYS OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. [1749. 

Indians, and to sj^y out the proceedings of the French. The English go- 
vernment, in anticipation of a war, had urged him to lose no time in building 
two forts, for which purpose artillery and munitions were sent over ; bu^t the 
French had been beforehand with them, and both from the north and the 
south, bodies of men had already been concentrated upon the beautiful banks 
of the Ohio. 

It is in connexion with these transactions, that we for the first time meet 
with the illustrious father of American liberty. In a former chapter allusion 
has been made to John Washington, who had then recently emigrated from 
England, and settled down among the planters of Virginia. The family of 
which he was a scion, were established at Sulgrave, in Northamptonshii-e, and 
numbered many personagcv of rank and consequence. 

GEORGE AVASHINGTON, the great-grandson of the above-named 
settler, was born on the 22nd of February, 1732, being the first offspring of 
his father's, Augustine Washington's, marriage with Mary Ball, his second wife. 
George was but a lad of eleven when his father died, leaving him with five 
brothers and sisters, all however tolerably well provided for. His mother, on 
whom alone now devolved the serious charge of shaj)ing the character and 
managing the interests of her children, Avas a woman of remarkable mental 
and bodily energy, in whom may be seen the same qualities which Avere more 
conspicuously manifested in her illustrious son. Although she lived to wit- 
ness his translation from the sphere of a private citizen to that of the de- 
liverer and first magistrate of his country, it worked no alteration in the sim- 
plicity of her habits, and when all around her eagerly sounded his praises 
in her ear, she was accustomed only to reply, that he had been a good son and 
had performed his duty as a man. Under her strict, but not severe discipline, 
young Washington grew up towards manhood with but little assistance from 
scholastic training. Virginia had always been behind the northern colonies 
in the means of education. Latin and Greek were untaught in the common 
schools to which he was compelled to resort, nor is it probable, from the turn 
of his mind, that he would ever have been a proficient in classical accomplish- 
ments. But the more severe and practical cast of his intellect was exempli- 
fied by the progress he made in arithmetic and the elements of geometry, his 
methodical and regular habits, and the singular satisfaction he appears to have 
derived from writing oxit forms and abstracts of business proceedings. Not 
less characteristic of his early sense of moral responsibility is a system of 
maxims, which, strange indeed at such an age, he had drawn up for his be- 
haviour, and which, stranger still, he ever afterwards carried into practice, 
terminating with the solemn memento, " Labour to keep alive in your breast 
that little spark of celestial fire called conscience." This thoughtful, elevated 
cast of mind, and a certain dignity of manner and appearance, gave to him, 
even in school, a moral ascendency over the minds of his fellows, who looked 
up to him as the impartial arbiter of their disputes. But with these character- 
istics, young Washington combined others of a nature directly opposite. 
Robust in frame, and Avith Virginian fire and daring in his blood he de- 



1749.] WASHINGTON BECOMES LAND-SURVEYOR. 241 

liglited ia athletic and military exercises. Like T\apolcon at Brienne, he 
would form his schoobnates into companies, and engage in mimic battles. 
After he left school this military turn of mind grew upon him, he continued 
the studies of mathematics and trigonometry, associated with officers who 
had served in the recent wars, studied tactics and perused treatises, and 
became expert in the use of the sword. Such was the remarkable balance of 
qualities rarely united in the same individual — prudence, self-possession, and 
conscientiousness, with ardour, energy, and the love of active enterprise. 

The destination of young Washington was now an object of interest to his 
relatives, and looking to his desire for active service, one of them obtained 
for him a birth as midshipman on board a British man-of-war ; but this 
scheme, to which he is said to have looked forAvard with all the buoyancy of 
youthful enterprise, was set aside by the authority of his mother. How many 
instances are there in which the disappointment of early plans has proved to 
be the source of future greatness ! Had Washington gone to sea, what a 
diiference would it have made to his own glory, and to the future fortunes of 
his country ! The occupation which he now took up, though both useful and 
lucrative in a new country, where vast tracts of land were to be opened and 
settled, bore in it no promise of future greatness, being simply that of land- 
surveyor and agent to a wealthy nobleman. Lord Fairfax, to whose family 
he had become distantly related. This nobleman, who had been edu- 
cated at Oxford, and had even written pajDers in the Spectator, on a visit to 
some estates in America he had acquired by inheritance, took such a liking 
to the free and wild life of the country, as to fix his residence there for the 
remainder of his days. His lands, a principality in themselves, were ex- 
tended over the Alleghany and its ridges, then covered with primitive forests, 
in which, as the population increased, a few squatters had set themselves down 
without law or warrant. To check these encroachments, and facilitate immi- 
gration, it was necessary to parcel out this territory into saleable jiortions, 
and upon George Washington this task was now devolved. 

Even in a country where children, by being early thrown uj^on their own 
resources, acquire precocious energy of character, this enterprise of the young 
surveyor Avas more than commonly remarkable. He was just sixteen, when, 
accompanied by George Fairfax, the eldest son of a relative, he set off at the 
head of a party, compass and chain in hand, to penetrate and map out an 
almost unbroken wilderness. This was precisely the sort of discipline, if it 
did not kill a youth outright, to give him dauntless hardihood of character, 
and robust vigour of constitution. Young Washington was soon accus- 
tomed to clamber precipices and wade morasses, to swim his horse over 
swollen streams, to sleep for nights under the canopy of heaven, wrapped up 
in a bear-skin, and deem a seat by a blazing log-fire a place of luxury, to 
live hard and to work hard, to cook his own rough meal with a wooden fork, 
and to cope betimes with the wild forests and their Avildcr tenants. Amidst 
hardships such as these, he fulfilled his task so successfully, as to obtain the 
post of public surveyor, which he continued to discharge for three years with 

2 I 



242 WASHINGTON'S EXPEDITION TO LAKE ERIE. [1753. 

the greatest credit. The confidence he had inspired soon led to his pro- 
motion to a post of stiU higher responsibihty, and when only nineteen he 
was appointed to take charge of one of the districts then threatened by the 
encroachments of the French, to call out and review the militia, and organize 
matters for the defence of the frontier. From these active duties he was 
called away for a Avhile to accompany his brother Laurence to the West 
Indies, in the vain hope that a warmer climate woidd check the progress of a 
consumption, of which he shortly afterwards died. The management of his 
deceased brother's estates now devolved upon him, with which his time and 
attention were for some months wholly absorbed. With the arrival of 
Governor Dinwiddle came a fresh accession to his responsibilities, in an ex- 
tension of the district over which he was appointed adjutant. 

His admirable character and efficient training had already conferred upon 
the youthful Washington, in the narrow theatre to which he had hitherto 
been confined, the reputation of one to whom much might be trusted, and 
from whom great things might be expected, should any .wider field of action 
be in store to develope his remarkable qualities. That opportunity was now 
in some measure afforded by the pending hostilities. 

As a preliminary measure to check the further progress of the French, Go- 
vernor Dinwiddle resolved to send a commissioner to confer with their officers 
on the Ohio, respecting their alleged encroachment on his Majesty's terri- 
tories, and at the same time to ascertain their plans and estimate their force. 
The experience that Washington had acquired, and the courage and sagacity 
that he had displayed, pointed him out as the fittest person for tills responsible 
office. To seek out the objects of this delicate diplomacy, he was compelled 
to traverse a distance of nearly six hundred miles of wild country, half of 
it in a state of nature, but these were difficulties which his previous training 
rendered comparatively trivial. With but eight followers, he made his way 
to Logstown, about twenty miles beyond the junction of the Monongahela 
and Alleghany rivers, where he had a conference with the Indian chiefs, who 
at his request gave him an escort to Venango, about fifteen miles from Lake 
Erie, the nearest outpost of the French. Here, after forty-one days' travel 
through an almost impassable wilderness, the French commandant received 
him Avlth characteristic politeness, but respectfully replied that it would be 
contrary to his instructions to evacuate the fort, or abandon the territory. 
Washington had nothing, therefore, to do but retrace his steps to Virginia, 
with this unpromising reply. He had however so improved this opportunity 
of obtaining the desired information, that his journal was deemed worthy of 
being printed, not only in the colonies, but also in London; and thus, by 
giving assurance of the enemy's plans, of leading to' immediate and vigorous 
efl^orts to counteract them, 

Dinwiddle's next object was to provide the sinews of war, and he lost no 
time in appealing to the Virginian legislature to vote the necessary supplies, 
while he despatched pressing entreaties to the other colonics to affi3rd him 
their assistance in repelling the common enemy. In both instances, he met 



1754] DE JUMONVILLE KILLED IN A SKIRMISH. 243 

witli but very partial success. Even in the Virginia legislature, doubts were 
expressed as to tlie king's claim over the disputed lands, and though the sura 
of ten thousand pounds was ultimately voted for " the protection of the settlers 
in the Mississippi," it was clogged with the proviso that commissioners should 
be appointed to watch over its appropriation. The other colonies received 
the appeal with great apathy, and held out but little hope of assistance. 
"With the means at his disposal, the governor, however, increased the military 
establishment, which was placed under Colonel Fry, an Englishman, Washing- 
ton being appointed second in command, with the title of Lieutenant-Colonel. 
To stimulate the zeal of his troops, and to form a body of military settlers, 
Dinwiddie issued a proclamation, granting to them two hundred thousand 
acres on the Ohio — a measure received with little approbation by the legisla- 
ture of Pennsylvania, who laid counter-claims to the lands in question. 

Although no declaration of war had been yet published, hostilities could 
no longer be delayed. A small party of English were engaged in building 
a fort at the junction of the Ohio and Monongahela, when their labours were 
interriTpted by the sudden apparition of a large force of French troops, who had 
descended the river from Venango, provided with ammunition, and who de- 
manded their immediate surrender. Unable to resist, they were compelled to 
comply with their requisition, and fell back to Wells Creek with intelligence 
of the disaster. The French now completed and strengthened the fort^ 
which they called Duquesne, after the nobleman who then held the govern- 
ment of Canada, and which has since gro-v\Ti uj? into Pittsburg, the Birming- 
ham of North America. 

The position of Washington now became critical by his superior in command 
hot having yet arrived ; he despatched messengers to entreat reinforcements, 
and held a council of war, at which it was resolved, as the best of two risks, to 
advance at once in the direction of the Ohio. Opening a road before them 
through forests and morasses, his troops had reached a spot to which Wash- 
ington gave the name of Great INIeadows, and where he proposed to erect a 
fort, when his scouts reported the approach of a body of hostile French. 
Under the conduct of the Indians, he came suddenly upon them, and the 
French ran to their arms ; a smart skirmish ensued, which ended in the death 
of the French leader, M. de Jumonville, and several of his men, upon which 
the remainder surrendered, and were sent under guard to the governor of Vir- 
ginia. As it afterwards ajjpcared that Jumonville was the bearer of a summons 
to evacuate the territory, this transaction was represented in France as an 
act of treachery on the part of Washington ; but even had he been aware of 
the purpose of the French officer, yet, as the latter was approaching with an 
armed body and a threatening message, and as the French themselves had 
already commenced hostilities, it is evident that he would have had no alter- 
native but to treat them as enemies. 

No sooner had the French learned of the death of M. Jumonville and the 
surrender of his detachment, than they prepared to fivenge it ; and having 
heard that large reinforcements had arrived at Fort Duquesne, Washington 

2 I 2 



244 ARRIVAL OF FRENCH TROOPS AT CANADA. [1755. 

waj. compelled to retreat. Painfully dragging their artillerj^ across the half- 
opened road, and enduring the severest hardsliips, his men at length reached 
Great Meadows. Where it had not been at first intended that they should halt, 
but they were incapable of continuing the retreat, and it was accordingly deter- 
mined to proceed with the construction of Fort Necessity while awaiting the 
arrival of provisions and reinforcements. But while thus engaged, they were 
in their turn surprised by the approach of a superior French force, and after 
a conflict of some hours, obliged to surrender on honourable terms. Although 
untoward, the issue of this camj^aign did not detract from the credit bestowed 
upon Washington for the conduct and bravery that he had displayed under 
very trying circumstances. He received the thanks of the House of Assem- 
bly, and made rapid progress in the esteem and confidence of liis fellow 
colonists. 

Hostilities between England and France being imminent, applications were 
made by the royal governors in the colonies for a levy of militia, which was 
warmly responded to by the northern colonies, the southern disj)laying far less 
zeal. As it was known that a French squadron, destined to carry out four 
thousand troojis, under Baron Dieskau, was preparing to sail from Brest, 
Admiral Boscawen was sent to intercept it ; but the greater part of the ships 
succeeded in throwing their forces into Canada and Louisburg, although one 
or two fell into the hands of the English, No formal declaration of war had 
as yet been issued, but each party was using its utmost efibrts to injure and 
annoy the other. 

The French had lately endeavoured to regain possession of Acadia, which 
had been originally discovered and settled by them, and where a large popu- 
lation of French origin had gradually grown up. With this view they had 
lately erected, besides the strong fortress of Louisburg, others at Beau 
Sejour, and Gaspereau, on the shores of the Bay of Fundy. To dislodge 
them thence, a large body of provincial troops was sent, raised and com- 
manded by John Winslow, grandson of the leader ^\\\o stormed the Indian 
stronghold in the war with Philip of Pokanoket, together with a small force 
of British regulars under the command of Colonel Monkton. The forts were 
easily reduced to a capitulation, with the express condition, however, that the 
inhabitants of the neighboixring district, a body of whom had been found 
among the garrison, should not be molested for the part they had taken 
in the defence. 

The situation of these poor people was very trying, and the treatment 
pursued towards them illustrates, as nothing else can, the atrocities involved 
in this intercolonial and frontier warfare. Their forefathers had crossed the 
ocean, and having struggled with the hardships of the wilderness, had be- 
queathed to their descendants the lands which they had thus colonised. In 
this remote spot they lived a quiet and a harmless life in the midst of much 
abundance, maintaining their old French customs and worshijjping God 
after their hereditary fashion. All this however could not prevent their 
countrv from becoming the object of contention between rival powers. 



1755.] THE ACADIANS LEAVE THEIR HOMES. 245 

but when conquered by tlie English, it had been expressly stipulated that 
they should be allowed to retain their lands, on condition of never assisting 
their own countrymen to recover possession of the territory. But it is mani- 
fest, that however they might have been disposed to remain in an obscure neu- 
trality, the strict observance of such a condition was ahnost impossible in their 
case, urged as they were by the intrigues of their priests to assist in throwing 
off the English yoke, and unable to restrain the impetuous ebullitions of their 
more adventurous and patriotic members. 

As it became evident to the English commanders that no reliance could 
be placed upon the professions of these unfortunates, it next became a question 
what treatment to adopt towards them. To allow them to remain where they 
were would entail the expense of watching them ; and if allowed to retire 
wherever they pleased, they would probably retire to Canada or Cape 
Breton, and swell the number of the enemy. There remained but one 
hideous alternative, namely, to transport them fi-om their ancient homes, and 
disperse them, like the captive Jews, among the territories of their conquerors, 
by whom, aliens as they were in blood, religion, and manners, they were re- 
garded with intense and hereditary hatred. 

The inhuman cruelty of such a scheme was only equalled by the miserable 
treachery with which it was carried into execution. Concealing their pur- 
pose until the unsuspecting people had ended the labours of a harvest, the 
English, convened them to assemble in the temples of their religion, where 
being suddenly surrounded with troops, the doom of expatriation was pro- 
nounced, and they were told to prepare for immediate embarkation. In vain 
did they protest that the great majority had not involved themselves in the 
offence, the military council were inexorable in their purpose. On the 
tenth of September, the day fixed for the embarkation, the prisoners M^ere 
drawn up six deep, and the young men, one hundred and sixty-one in nimiber, 
were ordered to go first on board of the vessels. This they instantly and 
peremptorily refused to do, declaring that they would not leave their parents ; 
but expressed a willingness to comply with the order, provided they were 
permitted to embark with their families. Their request was immediately re- 
jected, and the troops were ordered to fix bayonets and advance toward the 
prisoners, a motion which had the effect of producing obedience on the part 
of the young men, who forthwith commenced their march. The road from 
the chapel to the shore, just one mile in length, was crowded with women 
and childi-en, who on their knees greeted them as they passed with their tears 
and their blessings; while the prisoners advanced with slow and reluctant 
steps, weeping, praying, and singing hjanns. This detachment was followed 
by the seniors, who passed through the same scene of sorrow and distress. 
In this manner was the whole male population of Minas put on board of five 
transports, stationed in the river Gaspereau, each vessel being guarded by six 
non-commissioned officers and eighty privates. As soon as the other vessels 
arrived, their wives and children followed, and the whole were transported 
from Nova Scotia. 



243 FATE OF THE MAJORITY OF THE ACADIA N8. [1755. 

Hutcliiiison, in speaking of tlie distresses of these peo^^le, says — " In 
several instances, the husbands, who happened to be at a distance from home, 
were put on board vessels bound to one of the English colonies, and their 
wives and children on board other vessels, bound to other colonics, remote 
from the first. One of the most sensible of them, describing his case, said, 
' It was the hardest which had happened since our Saviour was upon earth.' " 

On the first alarm a few had succeeded in escaping to the "woods, but the 
council had taken effectual precautions against their re-occupation of their 
desolated hearths. As they looked out of the dreary forests upon the scene 
so lately the abode of peace and happiness, the flames of two hundred houses 
warned them that they had no longer a home to look for ; and when they 
beheld their village church involved in the same fate, they rushed with the 
courage of despair upon their inhuman spoilers, and after killing several of 
them, made their escape to the woods to perish of cold and famine. 

To the unliappy exiles, the bitterness of death passed not with their first 
expulsion, their ago,ny was long and lingering. By far the largest body of 
them were sent to Massachusetts, where the very exercise of their religion 
v/as forbidden to console their despair, while others were transported to the 
different colonies. Every where their maintenance was regarded as a burden, 
and they were thence hurried off to a still greater distance. Some sought 
out their fellow countrpnen in Louisiana, a few succeeded in reaching 
France, wliile some of the more energetic endeavoured to retrace their steps 
to the country with which every recollection of vanished haj^piness was con- 
nected. Few however succeeded in this attempt, and the great majority 
died broken-hearted exiles in a foreign land. 

Meanwhile the commissioners for the plantations had addressed a circular 
to the colonies, advising them to send delegates to hold a conference with the 
Six Nations, whose alKance at this ci'isis was felt to be of great importance, 
and also to organize a union for the general protection. Accordingly the 
delegates met at Albany, and, after settling the desired treaty with the 
Indians, took into consideration the plan of a general convention for the 
colonies, drawn up by the pen of Franklin, himself a delegate from Penn- 
sylvania. It was to consist of a council of forty-eight members, to be elected 
by the colonics, with a president-general, to be nominated by the crown. The 
functions of the council were, to undertake the levying, paying, and managing 
the colonial armies, to defend the frontier from the Indians, and to obtain 
from them new grants of land, and take other measures for the security and 
prosperity of the colonies ; and to secure these objects they were to be em- . 
powered to levy such taxes as might be expedient. The legislative power 
was to reside in the council, subject to a veto on the part of the royal 
governor, or even if passed in concert with that functionary, to the further 
ajiprobation of the king himself. Civil officers were to be nominated by the 
council, and apj^roved by the president, while military or naval ones, by 
the president, subject to the approbation of the council. Tliis scheme ap- 
peared so well balanced to the assembled delegates, that they 2:)asscd it 



1755.] DIFFICULTIES IN RAISING MONEY FOR THE WAR. 247 

imanimously, Avith tlie exception of those of Connecticut, and copies of it 
were sent to tlie different colonial legislatures, as well as to tlie home govern- 
ment. Both however rejected it ; the latter, because it conceded too large a 
share of power to the colonies ; the former, because it conferred too much upon 
the croAvn. The levying of taxes, even by a colonial assembly thus con- 
stituted, was protested against as " a very extraordinary thing, and against 
the rights and privileges of Englishmen." The English government sug- . 
gested a general council, composed of colonial governors and members of the 
council, who should adopt such measures as were deemed advisable, drawing 
on the British treasury for the sums necessary to carry them out, to be after- 
wards reimbursed by taxes imposed on the colonies by act of parliament. 
This scheme, as might have been expected, proved still more unpalatable 
than the former. Earnest instructions were sent over to the agents for Mas- 
sachusetts to oppose it; while Franklin, on being privily consulted, exposed 
with great energy the reasons why it would produce an universal ferment- 
ation ; and thus the idea was for the present set aside by the English 
ministry. 

Governor Dinwiddle, zealous as he was in the service of the colony, 
and desirous of maintaining the honour of the king's prerogative, Avas deeply 
mortified at the uncompliant temper of the Virginian assembly, and the indiffer- 
ence of the other colonies. He addressed repeated letters to the home govern- 
ment, complaining of the factious and repuohcan tendencies of the assemblies, 
and urging for an act of parliament to compel the different colonists to contribute 
to the common cause, independently of the local legislature. But though stub- 
bornly tenacious of their local rights, the Virginians at last voted a sum which 
enabled Dinwiddle to place the military force upon a respectable footing, Avhile, 
to insure unity of action and dependence on the croAvn, he put the ncAv forces 
under the command of the king's ofhcers, alloAving no native-born officer to 
take higher rank than a captain. Proudly sensible of an affront so degrading 
both to himself and his brave felloAV citizens, Washington resigned his com- 
mission, and retired to the management of his estates. He Avas destined hoAv- 
CA^er to but a brief repose, for shortly afterwards. General Braddock arrlA'ed 
fi-om England Avith fresh regiments, to take the command of the army, and 
being informed of Washington's experience and energy, offered him the post of 
aide-de-camp, in Avhich he Avould retain his former rank. With this request 
his public spirit, and his desire to engage in active serA-ice, engaged him to 
comply. " The sole motiA^e AA^hich invites me to the field," (he thus Avrote 
to one of his friends,) " is the laudable ambition of serA'ing my country, not 
the gratification of any ambitious or lucrative plans. This, I flatter myself, 
will appear by my going as a volunteer, AA'ithout expectation of rcAvard, or 
prospect of obtaining a command, as I am confidently assured it is not in 
General Braddock's poAver to give me a commission that I Avould accept." 

After arranging a plan of operations Avith the governors of fiA'e of the 
colonies, at which conference Washington Avas received Avith much distinc- 
tion, Braddock advanced to Fort Cumberland, AA'here he expected to meet 



248 BRADDOCK DELA YED FOR WANT OF WAGGONS. [1755. 

with a collection of horses and waggons to transport his artillery and stores. 
Owing to the indifference and tardiness of the colonists, and the mal2)ractices 
of the contractors, he found hunself suddenly checked in his onward progress, 
and loudly exclaimed against the faithlessness and incapacity of the local 
assemblies, and the apathy of the people at large. His temper, naturally 
proud and stubborn, was inflamed by this neglect, and his contempt for the 
colonists and theu* counsel became more inflexibly rooted. 

It was while Braddock was thus detained at Fredericton in Maryland, for the 
want of carriages, that Franklin, as postmaster, was deputed to wait on him 
to arrange his correspondence with the provincial governors. He found the 
general indignant at the ministry for ignorantly sending him into a country 
where no means of conveyance were to be procured, only five and twenty 
Avaggons being forthcoming, instead of the hundred and fifty required. 
Franklin, who dined with Braddock every day, hap2:)ening to say, it was a 
pity he had not landed in Philadelphia, where every farmer has his waggon : 
" TA\e general," he remarks, " eagerly laid hold of my words, and said, 
* Then you, sir, who are a man of interest there, can probably procure them 
for us, and I beg you will imdertake it.'" Franklin did so, giving his 
personal security to the farmers, and by his exertions the requisite number of 
waggons was collected, an act which Braddock commended in his letters 
home, as the only instance of address and integrity he had witnessed in the 
colonics. 

Franklin also kindly induced the assembly to make a handsome present of 
camp necessaries to the subalterns, who could ill aflbrd to procure them. 
" One day, in conversing with him, Braddock observed, ' After taking Fort 
Duquesne, I am to proceed to Niagara; and having taken that, to Fron- 
tenac, if the season will allow time, and I suj^pose it will ; for Duquesne can 
hardly detain me three or four days ; and then I see nothing that can obstruct 
my march to Niagara.' Having before revolved in my mind," says Franklin, 
" the long line his army must take in their march by a very narrow road, to be 
cut for them through the woods and bushes, and also what I had read of a 
former defeat of fifteen hundred French, who invaded the Illinois country, I 
had conceived some doubts and some fears for the event of the campaign. 
But I ventured only to say, ' To be sure, sir, if you arrive well before 
Duquesne, with these fine troops, so well provided with artillery, the fort, 
though completely fortified, and assisted with a very strong garrison, can pro- 
bably make but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend of obstruc- 
tion to your march, is from the ambuscades of the Indians, who, by constant 
practice, are dcxtcrovis in laying and executing them, and the slender Ime, 
near four miles long, which your army must make, may exjDose it to be at- 
tacked by surprise in its flanks, and to be cut like a thread into several pieces^ 
which, from their distance, cannot come up in time to support each other.' 

" He smiled at my ignorance, and replied, ' Thc»e savages may indeed be a 
formidable enemy to your raw American militia; but upon the king's regular 
and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make any impression.' 



1755.] THE TROOPS START FOR FORT DUQUESNE. 249 

1 was conscious of an impropriety in my disputing with a military man m 
matters of his profession, and said no more." The event however proved that 
the " raw militia " were better at bush-fightmg than the regular troops. 

No sooner was this obstacle removed than another no less formidable arose, 
in the tediousness of transporting the cumbrous materials of a large force, who, 
provided after the European fashion, and accustomed to meet with no ob- 
structions on their march, were obliged to proceed single file across the 
half-made roads of a rugged and mountainous country, destitute of supplies 
and covered with impenetrable forests. Braddock, appalled at these delays, 
which threatened to consume the whole season, sought the advice of Wash- 
ington, who advised him to push forward -with a light-armed division, and 
seize Fort Duquesne before the French could throw in reinforcements, 
leaving the rest of the troops to follow under the command of Colonel Dunbar. 
This advice was adopted by the general, but as he prepared to push on with 
his division, AVashington, who was to have accompanied him, was seized with 
a violent fever, and obliged to remain behind. Eager to rejoin the army 
before it should encounter the enemy, he hurried on while yet in a weak 
condition, suffering much from the jolting of the waggon in which he was 
transported over the rugged and broken roads, and overtook Braddock on 
the evening of July 8, when only fifteen miles distant from Fort Duquesne. 

Although he found the army were now much excited at the near vicinity 
to the enemy, over whom they anticipated a signal triumph, there was much 
in the management of matters that gave deep uneasiness to the mind of 
Washington, practised as he was in the wiles of Indian warfare. Fully alive 
to the necessity of watching against surprise, he viewed with alarm the 
infatuated indifference of Braddock, who, confident in the bravery of his troops, 
and rootedly attached to the European mode of discipline, disdained to give 
heed to any remonstrance, that the experience of others dictated. Durmg 
the march he had remained obstinately deaf to the advice repeatedly press- 
ed upon him even by his own officers, that h§ should observe more caution 
in his progress, and send out a body of provincials and Indians to scour 
the woods in the flank of his advancing troops. The very night before the 
battle, several Indians repaired to the commander's tent, and offered their ser- 
vice for this very purpose ; an offer which Washington used every effort to 
induce the general to accept, but he persisted in a peremptory and contemp- 
tuous refusal. 

The most beautiful spectacle he had ever beheld, as Washington was often 
heard to say, was the departure of the British troops the following morning. 
They advanced in perfect order, the sun was reflected back from their 
polished arms, and gave kistre to their brilliant scarlet regimentals in con- 
trast with the solemn obscurity of the virgin forest. The drum and fife 
struck up their thrilling strains, and in the highest spirits and most perfect dis- 
cipline the troops continued their march upon Fort Duquesne, then but a few 
miles distant. In front was an advanced guard of three hundred men, with 
guides and flanking parties ; a little behind followed a second division, and 

2 K 



250 DEFEAT OF THE ENGLISH UNDER BRADDOCN. [1755. 

next came tlie main body under Braddock liimself^ \Yliile tlie Virginian militia 
brouglit up the rear. 

In this order the army forded the Monongahela, advanced across an open 
plain, and about one o'clock began to ascend a hill beyond, the road beir.g 
every where closely hemmed in with forests and encumbered with brushwood, 
when on a sudden a heavy volley of musketry was poured upon the foremost 
body from an invisible foe — a small body of French with a considerable 
number of Indians detached by the commandant of Fort Duqucsne, who had 
concealed themselves in some sunken ravines which closely bordered the road. 
Staggered and terrified, the vanguard, after losing half their number, and 
firing at random into the forest, fell back, just as Braddock, alarmed at the 
noise, hastened forward with the rest of the troops. The terrific yells of the 
Indians, the volleys incessantly poured in by the ambushed French, the im- 
possibiHty of making head against an invisible enemy, soon threw the English 
regulars into hopeless confusion, which Braddock, now too late conscious of 
his infatuation, vainly sought, for three terrible hours, to retrieve by displaying 
the most desperate bravery. Four horses had been killed under him, and 
he was still urging on his men, when he received a shot in the lungs, and, 
though anxious to be left to die upon the scene of his discomfiture, was car- 
ried ofi" into the rear. Two of his aide-de-camps were already disabled. Sir 
Peter Halkct and his son fell together mortally wounded, and Washington, 
who displayed the utmost courage and presence of mind, as he hurried to and 
fro with Braddock's orders, was a repeated mark for the enemy's buUets, 
four of which passed through his coat, while two horses were shot imder 
him. Horatio Gates, the future conqueror of Saratoga, was also severely 
wounded. Washington's escape might well have seemed miraculous, and 
there is a well-attested tradition, that many years afterwards he was 
visited by an aged and venerable Indian chief, who declared that during 
the battle he had repeatedly taken aim at him, and directed several of his 
warriors to do the same, but finding that none of these balls took effect, 
he concluded that the young hero was under the special guardianship of 
the Great Sjoirit, and could never perish in battle, and reverentially ceased 
from further attempts to cut him off. The Virginians fought most bravely, 
and in a manner which, if generally adopted, would probably have given a 
different turn to the day — dashing among the brushwood, and firing like the 
Indians from behind the trees. But all was in vain, and at length, having 
lost half their number from a handful of the ambushed foes, Avhich, face to 
face, a single column would have sufficed to annihilate, the British army, 
covered by Washington and his Virginians, retreated in panic and confusion 
across the Monongahela, and never halted night and day until they had 
rejoined the rear-guard, under Colonel Dunbar, after a retreat of fifty 
miles. The artillery and baggage fell into the power of the enemy, but the 
Indians were so busy in plundering and scalping the Avounded and the 
dead, that no attempt was made to follow the fugitive army. The un- 
happy commander, borne along in their hurried rout, suffered the intensest 



1755.] GREAT POPULARITY OF WASHINGTON. 251 

tortures both of mind and body. As liis end approaclied, he dictated a de 
spatcli acquitting his officers of blame, and his last words were, " Who wouW 
have thought it ? — we shall know better how to deal with them another time.' 
Thus perished General Braddock, the victim of military pedantry. With 
his death vanished the last remains of discipline, and the wretched remains 
of the army hurried with frantic precipitation to Fort Cumberland, without 
a solitary foe in pursuit. Hence the commanding officer, in spite of the 
protestations of the exposed Virginian colonists, shortly after returned with 
his forces to Philadelphia. 

It is impossible to describe the sensation occasioned both in England and 
the colonies by this deplorable and disgraceful defeat. In the former the 
memory of the unfortunate chief was covered with obloquy ; in the latter, the 
prestige of British invincibility was at an end. Washington alone gained 
laurels for his conduct amidst disasters which his counsel, had ;it not been 
despised, would have prevented altogether, and rapidly rose in the estimation 
of his grateful fellow citizens. On one occasion Samuel Davies propheti- 
cally exclaimed, while preaching a sermon to the militia of Virginia, "T must 
give you a glorious example — that heroic young man. Colonel Washington, 
whom Providence his preserved in so remarkable a manner, doubtless for 
some important service which he is called upon to render his country." 
" Your health and good fortune," wrote Colonel Fairfax to him in 1756, 
" are the toast of aU the tables." When, in 1759, he was elected for the first 
time to the house of representatives, at the moment when he entered the hall, 
the speaker, ]\Ir. Pobinson, warmly expressed to him the gratitude of the as- 
sembly for the services he had rendered to the province. Washington arose 
to return thanks, but was so overcome with agitation that he was unable to 
utter a syllable. The speaker came to his assistance. " Be seated, Mr. 
Washington," he said, " your modesty equals your valour, and that surpasses 
all the powers of expression at my command." Plis further exertions were 
now required to check the incursions of the Indians, who, stimulated by 
French iniluence, kept the now unprotected frontiers in such a state of alarm, 
that the outlying farms were abandoned, and scalping parties advanced even 
within thirty miles of Philadelphia. 

T^Hiile these disasters were occasioned by contcmj)t for the services of 
the Indians, some important advantages were gained in the north by the adop- 
tion of an ojjposite system, under the guidance of an individual, whose flex- 
ibility of character curiously contrasted with the stubborn obstinacy of the 
unfortunate Braddock. William Johnson was a native of Ireland, and 
nephew of Sir Peter Warren, who, after distinguishing himself at Louisburg, 
married a lady of New York, and bought large estates upon the Mohawk 
river, at that time on the outlying verge of civilization. Young Johnson 
was invited over to take charge of his uncle's affiiirs. The territory" acquired 
was on the edge of the vast wilderness occupied by the Five Nations ; to gain 
their good will, and to obtain still larger concessions from them, was there- 
fore the prime object of solicitude, and for this young Johnson soon displayed 

2 K 2 



252 JOHNSON'S POLICY WITH THE INDIANS. [1755. 

extraordinary aptitude. For this lie was fitted alike by a natm-al taste for 
half-wild life, and by physical and mental qualities. His person was tall and 
imposing, his countenance sedate and somewhat melancholy, and while in 
general he affected the taciturn gravity of the Indians, he could burst forth 
on occasion into strains of stirring eloquence. He was perfect master of his 
temper and countenance, plausible in his manners, and, though strictly a 
man of his word in dealing with his Indian neighbours, super-subtle in his 
transactions beyond the measure of even Indian craft. To add to his in- 
fluence he adopted their dress, and formed a left-handed connexion with some 
of their dusky beauties. He built two large and substantial residences in the 
midst of this romantic but half-savage tract, where, being wisely appointed 
British agent with the Five Nations, he lived in a sort of rude and feudal pomp. 
Around his board were to be seen sometimes the aristocratic British officer, 
whom his duty might lead into these remote wilds, the sturdy provincials and 
farmers of the neighbourhood, and the rude fur-trader of the distant west. 
Above all, his chateau became the great rendezvous for the Indian sachems 
from the neighbouring forests, who here indulged in luxuries which their wig- 
wams could not aflbrd. In these rude revelries, Johnson freely participated, 
sleeping for nights together on the floor, the only Vk^hite man in a house filled 
with valuable property, amidst a horde of five hundred Indians who had 
intoxicated themselves upon his liquors. By arts such as these he had 
acquired extraordinary influence over the Indians, which he had sense 
and sagacity to turn to account, not only for his private advaiitage, but for 
the conduct of those wars in which his country was then engaged. Sensible 
that a campaign amidst morasses and forests filled with savages required a 
totally different system of tactics from that pursued in an open country, he 
not only succeeded in gaining the assistance of the Indians, but put them 
prominently forward in all his military operations ; and to this wholesome 
tact, rather than to any extraordinary skill or bravery, he owed the suc- 
cesses which acquired for him both fame and honours, and in some measure 
redeemed the disasters which had befallen the English troops. 

Among his half-savage confederates was one Hendrich, commonly called 
king Hendrich, a famous old sachem of the MohaAvks, distinguished for his 
shrewdness and bravery. Hendrich had been sent over to England and pre- 
sented to the king, who had bestowed upon him a full court suit. He had 
adopted in some measure the costume of a British officer, and was smitten 
with the love of military finery, for which he was destined to pay somewhat 
too dearly. Of the two men the following characteristic anecdote is related 
Having seen at Johnson's castle, one morning, a richly embroidered coat, he 
determined upon a cunning expedient to gain possession of it. " Brother,' 
he said to Sir William, as he entered one morning, "me dream last night.' 
*' Indeed," answered Sir William, "what did my red brother dream?' 
" Me dream that coat be mine," " It is yours," frankly replied Johnson 
Soon after he was visited by the baronet, who looking abroad upon the wide- 
spread landscape, calmly observed to Hendi'ich, " Brother, I had a dream 



1755.] THE SCENE OF HOSTILITIES. 253 

last niglit." " What did my English brother dream," rejoined the sachem. 
" I dreamed that all this tract of land was mine," pointing to a district some 
twenty miles square in extent. Hendrich looked very grave, but, determined 
not to be outdone in generosity, replied, " Brother, the land is yours, but 
you must not dream again." Such were the men who, with a force of 
militia and Indians, now went forward together to the encounter of the 
French. 

The scene of pending hostilities, one which afterwards became still more 
famous in the annals of the revolutionary war, is among the wildest and most 
romantic on the continent of North America. Between the outposts of the 
English on the upper waters of the Hudson, and the French settlements on 
the St. Lawrence, extended a wilderness two hundred miles in depth, covered 
with dense forests, the secret tracks of which were then only known to the In- 
dians, who were its exclusive tenants. In the centre of this tract were set two 
beautiful lakes, communicating with one another by a short inlet. The 
northern, and more extensive, was Lake Champlain, so called after the 
famous French explorer by whom it was first discovered. This lake was of 
considerable extent, its waters in some places some miles across, its shores 
were open and undulating, and graceful. The other, called by the French 
St. Sacrament, from the exquisite purity of its waters, and afterwards by the 
English denominated Lake George, was but thirty-five miles long, and rarely 
more than half a mile in width ; and sunk as it was among lofty mountains, 
whose leafy forests nodded over its silent waters, and studded with a maze of 
wooded islets, it presented, as it presents at the present day, a scene of 
romantic loveliness and fairy beauty, which it might be supposed had never 
been visited by the foot of man, still less selected as the scene of his angry and 
blood-stained encounters. From the southern extremity of this beautiful 
lake, and from the southern extremity of Lake Champlain, it was but a few 
miles to the shores of the Hudson river, which then formed the uttermost out- 
posts of civilization in the state of New York. Beyond Albany, which, as 
before stated, was the rendezvous of the English and colonial troops, a few 
settlements extended westward up the valley of the Mohawk river, past the 
little town of Schenectady, with a few more northward up the valley of the 
Hudson itself; but beyond this all was a region of dense and almost im- 
penetrable forests. The French had been the first to establish themselves in the 
heart of this region by the erection of the fortress of Crown Point, on 
Lake Champlain, to which they afterwards added that of Ticonderoga, 
on a promontory commanding the junction of the two lakes ; and at the 
period of which we are treating, these were the only ones erected within this 
immense extent of wilderness. 

Johnson having joined the northern militia at Albany, he sent a large body 
forward under the command of Major-General Lyman, to establish a strong 
fort, called Fort Edavard, in an advantageous situation on the Hudson, 
at the commencement of the carrying-place from that river to Lake George. 
Having completed his preparations, he joined his forces at this spot, and 



2o4 DEFEAT OF WILLIA2IS AT ROCKY BROOK. [1755. 

leaving a garrison' in the newly-erected fort, advanced to tlie southern edge 
of Lake George, where he prepared to advance to Ticonderoga, now 
scarcely finished by the French, on the narrow interval between Lakes George 
and Champlain. Plis onward progress Avas however checked by learning the 
advance of Baron Dieskau froni Canada with a body of French troops, and 
thus while he despatched urgent requests for reinforcements, he prepared to 
act on the defensive. Hearing by his scouts that the French commander was 
at hand with his forces, a council of war was called, when it Avas deter- 
mnied to send out a small force to check, if possible, the enemy's advance. 
Johnson now asked the opinion of Hendrich, who had joined the militia with a 
body of his Indians. Referring to the smallness of the detachment the sachem 
shrewdly observed, " if they are to fight, they are too few, if they are to be 
killed, they are too many ; " and the folly of a proposal to divide them into 
three bodies, he illustrated after the fashion of the old fable, by taking tluree 
sticks in his hand : " Put them together," he said, " and you can't break 
them ; take them one by one, and they are easily snapped." His laconic ad- 
vice was adopted, and a body of twelve hundred men under Colonel Wil- 
liams immediately ordered out. As they AAcre about to start, Hendrich 
leaped on a gun carriage, and harangued his Indians, Avho listened to him 
with the deepest veneration. His long Avhite hair flowed down in elf-locks over 
his dusky face and aged shoulders, and heightened the Avildness of his flashing 
eye; and such Avas the loftiness of his manner, and the vehemence of his dis- 
course, that the British commanders, Avho understood not a word of Avhat he 
said, Avere no less deeply affected than the Indians themselves. 

MeanAvhile the French Avere advancing toAvards Johnson's encampment with 
as much haste as the density of the forest, Avhich concealed all but what was 
immediately before them, would alloAv. The same obstacle entirely prevented 
Williams and his force from a knoAvledge of the enemy's position; thus, just 
Avhere the road passed a stream called Rocky Brook, about four miles from the 
lake, they suddenly found themselves in the centre of the French line, 
which Avas spread out around them in the shape of a half moon. A murder- 
ous fire Avas instantly opened upon them both in front and flank, Williams 
fell mortally wounded near a huge fragment of rock, which still retains his 
name, and the gallant Hendrich received a ball through his back from the ex- 
treme wing, only regretting in his death that this circumstance might lead to 
a behef that he had been shot while endeavouring to fly. After the first 
discharge, Captain Whity succeeded in cfl^ecting his retreat with little loss 
toward the camp. Johnson, A>dio had been alarmed by the firing, sent out an 
additional force, Avho, meeting their flying countrymen, fell back upon the 
camp, Avhich Johnson began hastily to fortify. 

The memory of this disaster was long preserved. At a short distance from 
the spot where Williams fell, is a small and gloomy pool, overmantled Avith 
the broad leaves of the water lily, into Avhich the bodies of the slaughtered 
English Avore throAA^. The spot Avas long regarded with fear. From the dark 
tinge AA'hich its waters were believed to take from the deadly burden they 



1755.] JOHNSON DEFEATS THE FRENCH. 255 

concealed, it was called "the Bloody Pond," and in tlie gloom of twilight the 
belated wanderer fancied that the ghostly forms of the slaughtered soldiers 
might be seen hovering about its brink. 

The advantage gained by the French was but temporary. Ignorant of 
the strength of Johnson's position, they eagerly pressed on to attack him, before 
the English should recover from the panic caused by their recent defeat. 
Johnson, however, had been busily engaged in strengthening his intrenchments, 
upon which he had planted two pieces of artillery, with which his assailants 
were totally unprovided. About noon they were seen emerging from the 
forest upon the little clearing in good order, the regulars in the centre, and 
flanked by the Canadians and Indians. Their fire however took little effect, 
while as soon as they rushed in to storm the place, the English opened upon 
them with their artillery, and a heavy and well-directed stream of musketry. 
A bomb-shell bursting in their midst completed the rout of the militia and 
savages. The regular troops stood their ground bravely for some time, 
but at length turned their backs, closely pursued by the English, Avho, leaping 
over the breastAVork, drove back their enemies into the cover of the forest. 
Dieskau received a mortal wound. Johnson himself was disabled, and the 
command devolved on Lyman, who heavily avenged the death of Williams- 
upon the fugitives. The Canadians and Indians Avho had fled at the com- 
mencement of the repulse, halted on the battle-ground of the morning, and 
were debating whether to renew the attack, when Captain Macginnis, who had 
been sent with a small body from Fort Edward, suddenly found himself close 
upon them, and after sustaining their attack for two hours, made his way to 
Johnson's camp, where he died three days after of a mortal wound. The 
remainder of the discomfited French made their way tln-ough the forests to 
their newly erected fort at Ticonderoga. 

Johnson at the time was strongly urged by Lyman to pursue them to this 
rallying place, a request afterwards enforced by General Shiidey, who had 
succeeded to the command of Braddock. He had not however sufiicient con- 
fidence in his troops, or was not adequately provided with artillery and stores, 
to venture on this measure, but contented himself with building a fort on the 
spot whence he had repulsed the French, on which he bestowed the name of 
"William Hexry, and leaving a small garrison, returned to Albany, where 
he disbanded his forces for the winter. 

In pursuance of a plan agreed upon in the conference at Alexandria with 
Braddock, Governor Shirley, of Massachusetts, had marched through the 
wilderness with a small force, destined for the reduction of the French forts 
Niagara and Frontenac. Arrived at Oswego, he received the news of Brad- 
dock's disaster, by which the chief command devolved upon hunself. His 
first measure was to strengthen Oswego by the erection of two new forts 
of good and solid construction, and to build vessels in order to convey his 
troops to Niagara ; but although he was warmly seconded by the colonists, he 
was unable to assume the offensive before the end of the season cut short his 
operations, and the militia returned to their homes for the winter. 



2oG ENGAGEMENT ON THE ONONDAGA, [175G. 

With these operations terminated the campaign of 1755. On the whole it 
was rather disastrous than favourable to the colonists, who responded but 
faintly to a further call made upon them by Shirley, to whose inexperience in 
war the unfortunate result was attributed. During the interval of winter some 
ineffectual attempts at negociation had taken place ; but these having failed, 
war Avas formally declared by England in the spring of 1756. General 
Abercrombie, who had acquired some reputation on the continent, was shortly 
after sent out with an additional force, but the Earl of Loudon, the new 
commander-in-chief, did not arrive till about the end of July. A garrison 
having been left in Oswego, to reinforce this became the immediate object of 
solicitude. Lieutenant-Colonel Bradstreet was detached thither with a small 
body of forces, and succeeded in making his way across the wide intervening 
wilderness to the Onondaga, at the influx of wdiich river into Lake Ontario 
the fort was situated. A large body of French were sent to intercept him, 
but he succeeded in effecting his passage before they could reach the banks 
of the stream. Nevertheless, as they were aware he must return by the same 
route, with but a very slender force, they resolved to lay in wait and inter- 
cept him. 

Few scenes could be more wild, or at the same time better adapted for such, 
a purpose, than the solitary banks of the Onondaga. In some places huge 
trees, undermined by the flood, hang over its darkened waters, which en- 
countering some pebbly shoal, suddenly break into rapids and eddy round 
the angle of some woody islet which intercepts their flow. • All around was 
unbroken forest, and it was impossible to penetrate any distance along the 
tangled banks of the stream, intersected with tributary torrents, or broken by 
weedy SAvamps. Bradstreet cautiously ascended the river, wisely dis- 
tribiiting his canoes in tlii-ee divisions, of Avhich he led the foremost, his eye 
intently fixed upon every angle which might conceal a lurking foe. Just 
where the stream broke round a woody islet, a sudden volley flashed out from 
the trees, accompanied by the wild yells of the Indians. Bradstreet instantly 
made for the islet, where a party, dashing through the shallows, had arrived 
before him to cut off his retreat. With resolute valour he drove them into the 
water, and some more of the canoes hurrying up, his little band was noAv in- 
creased to twenty men. A second and third time did the French with treble 
numbers dash across the stream, only to meet with a repulse ; and the rest of 
the boatmen now coming up, together with fresh bodies of the enemy, a run- 
ning bush-fight was maintained on both sides with desperate fury, till the French 
at length fled into the Avoods, having lost a hundred of theu" nmnber, leaA'ing 
numerous prisoners and a large quantity of arms as the prize of their intre- 
pid victors. Scarcely Avas the fight concluded, when the latter Avere joined 
by a fresh body of troops, who descended the river to Oswego, Avhicli by 
these successiA'e reinforcements was placed in a temporary posture of defence. 
Bradstreet, on joining Abercrombie, warned him of the intentions of the 
French to seize OsAvcgo, and fresh trooj)s were accordingly despatched thither; 
but so long was their departure delayed by the jealousy and fears of the 



1757.] MONTCALM ARRIVES IX QUEBEC. 257 

colonists, that before it had arrived, the fort had ah-eady fallen into the hands 
of the enemy. 

For in the mean while a new governor, and more enterprising commander-in- 
chief, had been sent over to Canada from France. Louis Joseph, Marquis de 
Montcalm de St. Veran, was born at the Chateau de Candiac, near Nismes, 
in 1712, of a family illustrious not only for its extraction, but for its prowess. 
Though destined for the profession of arms, he had received so excellent an 
education, that, like his competitor Wolfe, he ever afterwards retained a taste 
for scientific and literary pursuits, and had his career not been suddenly 
terminated, would have been chosen a member of the French Academy. Like 
the English commander too, he was not chosen as commander-in-chief of the 
French armies in North America until he had previously distinguished him- 
self in many a gallant encounter. Such was the general who now arrived at 
Quebec with a large reinforcement of troops, and who, after sustaining the 
honoiu- of the French arms with unexampled success, fell gloriously in the 
field of battle, and is associated with his victor in an enduring monument 
of their common fame. His first exploit was the seizure of Forts Ontario 
and Oswego, where vast magazines had been assembled without any adequate 
protection, which having learned, he stole a march upon them, and surprised 
them before any succour could be obtained. 

Thus had passed another season of hostilities, which left matters, if any 
thing, in a position still less favourable to the English, During the winter, 
a military council was held at Boston, by liOudon, in which it was resolved, 
next year, merely to defend the frontiers, and to undertake an expedition to 
Louisburg, which had been ceded again to the French. It was not until 
July that Loudon sailed, just a little too late to prevent a French fleet from 
entering the harbour, and he sailed back to Boston from this abortive 
expedition, only to learn that serious disasters had befallen the defenders of 
the frontier, owing to the unaccountable dilatoriness and want of decision 
with which all the civil and military affairs appear to have been conducted at 
this period. 

During the absence of Loudon, Montcalm determined on striking a vigor- 
ous blow at Fort William Henry, which had, as before said, been built by 
Johnson at the southern extremity of Lake George. The fort, which was 
far from strong, was garrisoned by two thousand men under Colonel Moiu'O ; 
while Colonel Webb was stationed at Fort Edward, with a force of double 
that amount. 

While Webb remained thus inactive, Montcalm was concentrating his 
troops at Fort Ticonderoga, at the northern extremity of Lake George. He had 
succeeded in gaining over a large body of Indian allies, which with his regular 
trooj)s formed a body of eight thousand men, well provided with artillery for 
the siege of Fort William Henry, Descending the lake, he encamped on the 
shore in the immediate vicinity of the fort, which rested its bastions on the 
limpid waters, and Avith the exception of a small clearing, seemed buried 
among a region of lofty mountains and ravines clothed with trackless forests. 



258 MA SSA CEE OF THE ENGLISH OF FOR T ED WA ED. [1 757. 

Having reconnoitred the fort, Montcalm pushed his trenches close to the ram- 
parts and opened a heavy cannonade upon the body of the fort; while the 
woods around swarmed with his sharp-shooters and Indians, Avho kept up a gall- 
ing fire on the defenders as they manned the batteries. Unable to offer any 
protracted resistance, Monro sent repeated and pressing messages to Webb, 
who had already examined the place, and though pressed by the daring 
Rogers to allow him to attack the enemy with his Rangers, seemed to have 
made up his mind that it could not be successfully defended. The French 
commander issued a peremptory summons to surrender, but Monro declared 
he would defend his trust to the uttermost extremity. At length his artillery 
failed, and when Montcalm sent in an intercepted letter, in which Webb 
affirmed his inability to offer any succour, and desired him to make the best 
terms in his power, the brave commandant reluctantly signed a capitulation, 
by which he was to march out with all the honours of war, and to be es- 
corted to Fort Edward by a body of French soldiers. 

The Indian allies of Montcalm, deprived of their promised plunder by the 
terms of this capitulation, could hardly be kept in restraint, a fact of which 
Montcalm had already informed the English conunander. To the chivalrous 
officers, accustomed to the conduct of European warfare, the necessity of em- 
ploying these savage allies must have been degrading, and the impossibility 
of restraining their atrocities without provoking their hostility has often 
exposed their reputation to unmerited obloquy. It proved so on this occasion. 
The British soldiers, still armed, and escorted by a small French force, with 
their wives and children marched with heavy hearts out of the Avorks to take 
their way towards Fort Edward, and scarcely had the head of the column en- 
tered the forest, and become entangled in a narrow pass, which still retains 
the name of the " Bloody Defile," than a body of two thousand savages, con- 
cealed in the surrounding thickets, raised the dreadful and thrilling war- 
whoop, and bursting upon them, commenced an indiscriminate massacre. 
Seized with sudden panic, the English fell almost without resistance, and the 
French escort was either unable cr unwilling to offer them any effectual aid. 
It is said Montcalm with several of his officers rushed into the midst, and 
vainly endeavoured to stay the butchery; he bared his breast and called 
upon the savages to slay himself rather than his prisoners, and urged the 
latter to defend themselves ; but all his efforts were in vain. The terrified 
fugitives were pursued into the forest, where many fell victims to the toma- 
hawk or were carried away into slavery ; the rest, after much difficiilty, suc- 
ceeded in reaching Fort Edward. The fort was then destroyed by the 
French, who had hardly embarked, when Major Rogers, who had been 
hovering with his Rangers about their track, descended to the spot, and has 
vividly described the scene of desolation and horror before him. " The fort 
was entirely demolished, the barracks, and outhouses, and buildings were a 
heap of ruins, the cannon stores, boats, and vessels were all carried away. 
The fu'es were still burning ; the smoke and stench offensive and suffocating 
Innumerable fragments, human skvdls, and bones and carcasses half con- 



1758.] MINISTRY OF WILLIAM PITT. 259 

sumecl, were still frying and broiling in the decaying fires. Dead bodies man- 
gled witli scalping knives and tomahawks, in all the wantonness of Indian 
fierceness and barbarity, were every where to be seen. More than one hun- 
dred women butchered and shockingly mangled lay upon the ground, still 
weltering in their gore. Devastation, barbarity, and horror every where ap- 
peared, and the spectacle presented was too diabolical and awful either ta be 
endured or described." 

This affair created the greatest consternation throughout the northern pro- 
vinces. Twenty thousand militia were called out in Massachusetts in the 
apprehension of a further blow; but Montcalm, satisfied with the advantages 
he had gained and the terror he had occasioned, withdrew his forces into 
Canada for the winter. 

As it is darkest just before the coming of the day, so the termination of 
the campaign of 1757 left matters in a more gloomy state than any of the 
preceding. The French retained Louisburg, had mastered Oswego, and com- 
manded not only Lake Champlain, btit Lake George, threatening even the 
settlements on the Hudson. The Six Nations had been obliged to enter into 
a treaty of neutrality. By the possession of Fort Duquesne, the French 
menaced the frontiers of Virginia and Pennsylvania, which were continually 
ravaged by their Indian allies. In the mother country, no less than in the 
colonies, the bitterest discontent prevailed. The Newcastle ministry was 
declared to be venal and incapable, and a change imperiously demanded by 
the nation. 

It was by this current of popular feeling, more than by the desire of the 
king, that a new minister now appeared on the scene of action, gifted with a 
grasp of mind and energy of purpose that equalled the emergency which 
called him into notice. This was William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, 
who now assumed the entire control of foreign and colonial affairs. Conscious 
that he alone could save the country if any man could, his measures were 
characterized by a vigour commensurate to the necessity, while the agents 
appointed to carry them into execution were selected with the wisest dis- 
crimination. His plans for the conquest of Canada infused new life into the 
colonists, and as they were besides to be repaid for the expense of their levies, 
large forces of provincials were soon collected, while, by the arrival of fresh 
reinforcements from England, Abercrombie, who remained commander-in- 
chief, soon found himself at the head of a splendid army, destined to advance 
upon Canada by way of the lakes, and also to wrest Fort Duquesne out of 
the hands of the French. 

Among the leading officers of Abercrombie, was the young Lord Howe, 
who although in the foremost ranks of the British aristocracy, had endeared 
himself to the whole army by the courtesy and gentleness of his manners, 
no less to the provincials than the British, and by the manner in which he 
shared every hardship in common with the rest of the troops. Disregarding 
the pomp of military display to which the major part of the army tenaciously 
clung, he was even among the first to set an example of wearing a suitable 

2 L 2 



260 JO URNEY OF THE TR OPS TO TICONDER GA . [1 758. 

dress, and submitting to the regulations required by a campaign in the forests. 
He cropped his long powdered hair, wore a short jacket and leggings, and 
ordered the -barrels of the men's muskets to be blackened, that they might not 
attract the watchful eye of the enemy. Unlike most disciplinarians and 
innovators, he had the art of making himself tenderly beloved by the whole 
army, and he was regarded with no less attachment by the Americans among 
whom he was quartered at Albany. Aunt Schuyler, as he familiarly called 
his maternal friend, a lady whose hospitable house was always open to the 
English officers, took the deepest interest in him, and watched the prepar-" 
ations for his departure with an unaccountable presentiment of evil. On the 
morning he left, he was surprised at finding her, though so early, already up, 
having prepared his breakfast for him. He playfully remarked that he would 
not disappoint her, " as it might be hard to say when he might again break- 
fast with a lady." Urging upon him the precautions which her knowledge 
of the country suggested to her anxious mind, she embraced him with all the 
tenderness of a mother, and wept bitterly as he took what proved indeed to be 
a lasting and a sad farewell. 

The army which now advanced to Lake George was the finest ever seen in 
America, amounting to seven thousand regulars and nine thousand provin- 
cials, including the regiment of the Royal Americans, and was furnished with 
a fine train of artillery and abundance of military stores ; more than a thousand 
boats were required for their conveyance, and the artillery was mounted upon 
rafts. On the 5th of July they embarked on the lake, and threading its ro- 
mantic maze of islets, advanced as far as a projecting point, more than half- 
way towards their destination, to give a few hours' refreshment to the troops, 
and make final arrangements for the morrow. To this spot, from their quit- 
ting it on Sunday morning, Abcrcrombie gave the name of Sabbath-day 
Point, which it has ever since retained. 

The eve of the attack was dark and sultry, and it was determined to proceed 
under cover of the night, while the glare of the watch-fires deceived the 
enemy by the appearance of a nocturnal bivouac. It was a moment of intense 
anxiety. Lord HoAve in particular, as with a presentiment of some pending 
calamity, invited the provincial Captain Stark, afterwards distinguished 
in the revolutionary war, to sup with him, and closely que'stioncd him 
as to the position of Ticonderoga and its defences. Soon after midnight 
the whole fleet was again in movement, Howe leading the van, accompanied 
by a guard of E angers and boatmen. It was a strange spectacle, that noc- 
turnal passage of so large an army along the solitar}^ waters of the lake. The 
boats conveying the regulars occupied the centre, those of the provincials the 
wings, and in this order, with muffled oars, they slowly swept across the un- 
ruffled expanse, under the solemn shadows of the overhanging mountains, and 
o'er-canopied by the starlit sky. Their progress was unobserved by the French 
scouts until dawn, when, on suddenly sweeping round the point where they 
were to effect a landing, the glitter of arms, and the blaze of scarlet uniforms, 
betrayed their vicinity to the fortress. At a spot called Howe's landing. Brad- 



1758.] UNTIMELY DEATH OF LORD HOWE. 261 

street first jumped ashore, with an advanced guard of two thousand men 
under Lord Howe ; but no opposition was offered, and the rest of the forces 
were soon landed, Avith a distance of but four miles intervening between 
them and the object of attack. 

Short as was this interval, however, it was covered at that time, like the 
whole region around, with tangled and almost trackless forest, bewildering alike 
to the besiegers and besieged. Rogers and Stark pushed through the woods 
with their Rangers to flank the advance of the regulars, who, destitute of guides,, 
were soon thrown into considerable disorder ; but Abercrombie, who knew 
that reinforcements were to be thrown into the fort, pressed forward as 
rapidly as possible, without carrying his artillery with him. As the army 
struggled on in this confused fashion, the advanced guard under Lord Howe, 
soon after passing a bridge over the stream uniting the two lakes, suddenly 
came upon the abandoned outposts of the French. Major Putnam, with a 
scouting party, advanced to reconnoitre, and Howe eagerly desired to accom- 
pany him, and reap the glory of the first attack. Putnam urged the young 
nobleman to remain behind, observing to him, " My Lord, if I am killed my 
life will be of little consequence, but the preservation of yours is cf infinite 
importance to this army." Howe rejoined, " Putnam, your life is as dear to you 
as mine is to me. I am determined to go." As they made their way through 
the thick woods, the yell of the Indians struck upon their ears, and they were 
suddenly confronted by five hundred Frenchmen and their savage allies, who 
had lost their way while endeavouring to fall back upon the fortress. A 
fierce encounter ensued, and almost at the first discharge, Howe received a 
musket-shot in the breast, and instantly fell dead. The French defended 
themselves with extraordinary courage, and four-fifths of them were slain 
.before they yielded the battle-ground to the infuriated and disheartened 
English. 

The loss of Lord Howe fell like an ominous cloud over the sj^irits of 
the army, by whom he was universally beloved. The news fiew rapidly 
to Albany, and cast a gloom over the place. A few days after his departure, 
in the afternoon, a courier was seen galloping violently from the north without 
his hat. One of the Schuyler's family ran out to inquire, when the man hastily 
rode on, crying out that Lord Howe was killed, and shrieks and sobs for his 
untimely death re-echoed through the house so lately enlivened by his gentle 
and graceful presence. No death was more regretted during the seven years' 
war than that of this unfortunate young nobleman, and the State of Massa- 
chusetts voted a monument to his memory in Westminster Abbey. 

At dawn the next day, in consequence of the general confusion and alarm, 
Abercrombie marched back his forces to the landing-place, while Bradstreet 
was sent forward to seize some sawmills Avhich formed a French outpost, in 
which enterprise he was entirely successful ; and the ground being now clear, 
on the following night the army ad\'anced and took up a position close 
under the walls of Ticonderosra. 

This fort, so celebrated in both the intercolonial and revolutionary wars, and 



2C3 ABERCROMBIE FAILS IN TAKING TICONDEROGA. [1758. 

the crumbling and picturesque ruins of which now attract the interest of the 
tourist, stood upon a bold point of land above the stream which unites Lakes 
George and Champlain, the navigation of which it thus commanded. It took 
its name from the Indian word cheonderoga, signifying *'the sounding water," 
and from the noisy rapidity of the stream that flowed beneath its walls, the 
French, who erected the place in 1776, conferred on it the appellation of Fort 
Carillon. It was strongly and solidly built, and within was Montcalm with a 
garrison of three thousand men. On three sides it was surrounded by water, 
and the other was defended by a swamp. Here intrenchments were thrown 
up for nearly a mile in front, there was a breastwork nine feet high ; but the 
most formidable obstacle was an abattis, or barrier, one hundred yards deep, 
composed of felled forest trees, with their jagged branches pointing outward 
towards the foe, and so entangled as to be almost impenetrable. 

Abercrombie was anxious to attack the fort without delay, having heard that 
a large force under M. de Levi was approaching to join Montcalm, the num- 
ber of whose forces was exaggerated by the accounts of prisoners. Engineers 
immediately proceeded to reconnoitre the works, but from the width of the 
intervening swamp and brushwood, were unable to come to any decided 
conclusion. Some reported them as trifling, others as formidable ; and 
under the pressure of the emergency, the general either inclined to the latter 
opinion, or determined to trust all to the bravery of his troops, without waiting 
for his artillery, the arrival of which must have insiu'cd to him a certain 
triumph. Had success been the result of this rash measure, Abercrombie, 
whose good services on the continent had led to his promotion, would have 
obtained the reputation of a hero — its disastrous issue has covered his memory 
with shame. 

On the morning of the fatal 8th of July, the army was formed for the 
attack. The provincials formed the wings ; and the centre, upon whom the 
brunt of the onset devolved, was composed of the British regulars, with the 
brave 42nd Highlanders, and the 55th, which had been commanded by Lord 
Howe. At one o'clock, under a burning sun, those regiments received the 
order to attack, and to reserve their fire until they had surmounted the sum- 
mit of the breastwork. The order was strictly obeyed, and though the French 
opened a galling discharge upon them as they made their way across the tangled 
morass, not a shot had been fired, when they reached the outermost extremity 
of the abattis, which now developed itself in all its unsuspected extent and 
formidable strength. Nothing daunted, however, the trooj)s, leaping upon the 
prostrate trunks, endeavoured to surmount the obstacle, but soon became hope- 
lessly entangled amidst the wilderness of jagged branches, entwined together 
into inextricable confusion. While thus endeavouring to force their way, the 
French, sheltered by the breastwork, picked them off one by one, without 
the slightest difficulty, and though a few of the more active and lightly clad 
Highlanders contrived to clamber over the abattis, and to force their way over 
the breastwork, they were instantly despatched with the bayonet. It seems al- 
most incredible, though true, that this hopeless struggle should have continued 



1758.] CAPTURE OF FORT FRONTENA C B Y BR AD STREET. 263 

for four liourSj until nearly two thousand men had fallen victims to a struggle, 
which for dogged perseverance against insuperable obstacles, has scarcely a 
parallel in history. At length an English detachment having by mistake 
fired upon their own countrymen, a general panic took place, and the rout 
became universal. Abercrombie having issued an order for retreat to the 
landing-place, the troops crowded down towards the boats, but were j^re- 
vented from rushing into them by the presence of mind of Bradstrcet, who 
occupied the landing-place with a small force, and here accordingly the army 
encamped after this most terrible reverse. 

Stupified by this disaster, Abercrombie, who appears to have been unequal 
to the emergency, remained inactive, although his army was still far superior 
to that of the enemy. Some indemnification for his defeat was found in the 
capture of Fort Frontenac by Colonel Bradstreet, an active and energetic 
officer, formerly lieutenant-governor of St. John's, Newfoundland, and lately 
appointed commissary-general, with the onerous charge of keeping up a com- 
munication across the wilderness from Albany to Oswego. Fort Frontenac, 
now Kingston, has been already described as on the northern shore of Lake 
Ontario, commanding the descent of the St. Lawrence, and menacing the fron- 
tiers of New York. It was built in 1673, by the enterprising governor whose 
name it bears, and hence La Salle departed to discover the INIississippi. The 
capture of the place had been pressed upon General Abercrombie by Brad- 
street, who received his permission to make the attempt, which, owing to his 
vigour and foresight, was crowned with entire success. Leaving a small gar- 
rison behind, he returned to erect Fort Stanwix, commanding the important 
passage between the Mohawk river and "Wood Creek, which communicated 
with Oneida Lake and the passage of the Onandaga river to Oswego. 
This fort on the southern shore of Ontario, immediately opposite to Fron- 
tenac, had been built by Governor Burnet in 1722, in order to establish 
English influence on the lake. At this encroachment, as they deemed it, 
the French took great ofience, and after vainly endeavouring to compel 
Burnet to retire, built, as a countercheck, a fort commanding the waters of 
Lake Champlain, which they called Fort St. Frederick, afterwards kno^via as 
Crown Point. 

For the reduction of Fort Duquesne, which continued to be the centre of 
French influence on the Ohio, and whence they continued to instigate the 
Indians to disturb the English frontiers, an army of seven thousand men had 
now assembled under the command of General Forbes, who disregarding the 
advice of Washington to advance by the road already opened by Braddock, 
ordered a new one to be cut from Eaystown. The vanguard to whom this 
work was committed, had' been nearly cut off, like Braddock's, by a sudden 
surprise, having lost two hundred men, when Forbes came up with the re- 
mainder of the forces. W^ith fifty miles of road to open across the forests, the 
winter rapidly approaching, and the disheartened troops beginning to desert, it 
was resolved to retrace their steps, and abandon the enterprise, Avhen, by the acci- 
dental captui-e of some prisoners, they learned the weakness and distress of the 



284 SEA R CH FOR REMAINS OF BR ADD CK 'S A RMY. [1758. 

French garrison, and nerved by tliis intelligence determined on making a 
vigorous effort to gain possession of the place ere it could be reinforced. 
Leaving their artillery behind, and pushing into the trackless forest, through 
which with their utmost efforts they were not able to advance more than a 
few miles a day, they had advanced within a few hours' march of the place, 
when the French garrison, having set fire to the works, retreated down the 
Ohio. The abandoned fort noAV received an English garrison, and its name was 
changed from Duquesne to Pitt : the rest of the army retraced their stejjs, and 
the harassed frontiers of Virginia and Pennsylvania were now freed from the 
incursions of the Indians. 

Three years had elapsed since the dreadful defeat of Braddock near the 
spot, and the scene of his disaster had remained unvisited. It Avas now for the 
first time sought out. Nothing perhaps in the annals of history or the pages 
of romance can surpass the following description, which is taken from the 
pages of Gait's " Life of West." 

" After the successfid expedition against Fort du Qucsne in 1758, General 
Forbes resolved to search for the relics of Braddock's army. As the Euro- 
pean soldiers were not so well qualified to explore the forest. Captain West, 
the elder brother of Benjamin West the painter, was appointed, Avith his 
company of American Sharpshooters, to assist in the execution of this duty ; 
and a party of Indians were requested to conduct him to the places where the 
bones of the slain were likely to be found. In this solemn and affecting duty 
several officers belonging to the 42nd regiment accompanied the de- 
tachment, and with them Major Sir Peter Halkct, who had lost his father and 
brother in the fatal destruction of the army. It might have been thought a 
hopeless task that he should be able to discriminate their remains from the 
common relics of the other soldiers, but he was induced to think otherAvise, 
as one of the Indian Avarriors assured him that he had seen an officer fall near 
a remarkable tree, Avhich he thought he could still discover ; informing him at 
the same time that the incident Avas impressed on his memory by observing a 
young subaltern, who, in running to the officer's assistance, Avas also shot dead 
on his reaching the spot, and fell across the other's body. The Major had a 
mournful conviction in his oavu mind that these tAvo officers Avere his father 
and brother; and, indeed, it Avas chiefly oAving to his anxiety on the subject 
that this pious expedition, the second of the kind that is on record, Avas 
undertaken. 

" Captain West and his companions proceeded through the woods and along 
the banks of the river, toAvard*; the scene of the battle. The Indians resrarded 
the expedition as a religious service, and guided the troops with aw^ and in 
profound silence. The soldiers Avere affected with sentiments not less serious ; 
and as they explored the bcAvildering labyrinths of these vast forests, their 
hearts Avere often melted Avith inexpressible sorrow, for they frequently found 
skeletons lying across the trunks of fallen trees, a mournful proof to their 
imaginations that the men AA'ho sat there had perished Avith hunger in vainly 
attempting to find theh way to the plantation. Sometimes their feelings Avere 



1758.] WOLFE MADE BRIGADIER-GENERAL BY PITT. 265 

raised to the utmost amount of horror by the sight of bones and skulls scattered 
on the ground, a certain indication that the bodies had been devoured by wild 
beasts ; and in other places they saw the blackness of ashes amid the relics, 
the tremendous evidence of atrocious rites. At length they reached a turn 
of the river not far from the principal scene of destruction, and the Indian 
who remembered the death of the two officers stopped : the detachment imme- 
diately halted. He then looked round in quest of some object which might re- 
call dis-tinctlyhis recollection of the ground, and suddenly darted into the wood. 
The soldiers rested their arms without speaking, a shrill cry was soon after 
heard, and the other guides made signs for the troops to follow them towards 
the spot from which it came. In a short time they reached the Indian war- 
rior, who, by his cry, announced to his companions that he had found the 
place where he Avas posted on the day of battle. As the troops approached he 
pointed to the tree under which the officers had fallen. Captain West halted 
his men round the spot, and with Sir Peter Halket and the other officers 
forined a circle, while the Indians removed the leaves which thickly covered 
the ground (the leaves of three seasons). The skeletons were found as the 
Indian expected, lying across each other. The officers having looked at them 
for some time, the Major said that, as his Hither had an artificial tooth, he 
thought he might be able to ascertain if they were indeed his bones, and those 
of his brother. The Indians were therefore ordered to remove the skeleton 
of the youth, and to bring to view that of the old officer. This was done, and 
after a short examination Major. Halket exclaimed, It is my father ! and fell 
back in the arms of his companions. The pioneers then dug a grave, and the 
bones being laid in it together, a Highland plaid was spread over them, and 
they were interred with the customary honours." 

While Abercrombie, defeated and disgraced, was wasting the season in in- 
action upon Lake George, Louisburg had fallen before a well-concerted expe- 
dition under General Amherst, associated with whom was the youthful chief 
who shortly afterwards cffi;cted what so many of his predecessors had failed to 
accomplish, the capture of Quebec, and the consequent reduction of Ca- 
nada. This was James Wolfe, the second son of a colonel who had 
served under Marlborough, and born at the vicarage of Westeiham in 
Kent, on the 2nd of January, 1727. Wliisn first he entered the army in his 
father's company, he was a lad of fourteen, and so delicate that he was obliged 
to be landed at Portsmouth. On his recovery he joined the troops, was 
engaged at Dettingen and Fontenoy, and at the engagement of La Peldt was 
publicly thanked by the Duke of Cumberland on the battle-field. His re- 
markable merit soon attracted the eye of Pitt, who, overleaping the ordinary 
rules of the service, made him a brigadier-general, and associated him with 
Amherst in the command of the army destined against Louisburg. His 
natural character displayed a union of qualities but seldom united ; deli- 
cate in frame, excitable in temperament, refined in tastes, and with a love of 
domestic enjoyments, he was no less daring, energetic, and desirous of obtain- 
ing distinction in the service of his country. It was his own opinion that his 

2 M 



2G3 LOUISBURG TAKEN BY AMHERST AND WOLFE. [1759. 

character was only to be called forth by remarkable emergencies, that it was 
his faculty to triumph over obstacles that would drive an ordinary mind to 
despair ; and the issue proved that this confidence in his own powers was not 
unduly great. 

The fleet arrived at Cape Breton on the morning of the 2nd of June, 
while a thick mist shrouded the surrounding shores. Every j)i'ecaution had 
been adopted for landing unobserved, but as the fog cleared off it disclosed a 
line of formidable breakers, that for several days prevented all attempt to land. 
The boats at length put off, but as they neared the awful surf, through which 
it seemed impossible to pass and live, "Wolfe waved his hat as a signal to put 
back again to the ships. Three young subalterns mistaking the order, pushed 
tlii-ough the breakers, and though some of their boat's crew were sucked back 
by the roaring surf never to rise again, succeeded in making good their landing. 
"Wolfe and the rest now followed, exposed to a galling fire as they neared the 
shore. It was some days before the sea was calm enough to admit of the 
artillery being landed ; when the town was closely invested, and a heavy fire 
directed upon the works, Avhich were in very bad repair. Drucour, the French 
commandant, protracted the defence with skill and bravery, but most of the 
French ships of war in the harbour being set on fire by a shell, and the 
remaining two being boarded and destroyed by the English boats, (an exploit 
in which the celebrated Cook, then a petty officer, co-operated,) he was at length 
obliged to capitulate. This brilliant achievement strengthened the hands of 
the ministry, and gained laurels for all engaged in it, of which "Wolfe de- 
servedly obtained a considerable share. A painful duty was now devolved 
upon him, that of expelling the French from the different settlements they had 
formed in Acadia and on the St. Lawrence. The wretched inhabitants were 
driven from their farms and fisheries into the wilderness. Such are the 
ohronicles of war. The exploits of the hero are written in brass and marble, 
the miseries involved by them forgotten in the blaze of national exultation. 
After executing this cruel order with as much humanity as possible, "Wolfe 
repaired to Halifax to winter with the troops ; while Amherst hastened to 
Boston, to carry reinforcements to the discomfited Abercrombie. 

Next year the fleet left Louisburg with eight thousand men on board, under 
the command of "Wolfe. Towards the end of June, it ascended the St. 
Lawrence, and on the 25th, anchored ofl^ the beautiful Isle of Orleans, witliin 
sight of the castled crag of Quebec, the object of the expedition. 

This city, magnificent in position as it is heroic in associations, was founded 
by the first French settlers in the fifteenth century. The river that bathes 
its walls — the mighty St. Lawrence — is the outlet of a chain of fresh-water 
lakes, whose extent imagination almost labours to grasp — the inland seas of a 
vast continent, rapidly passing from the wildness of primeval nature into the 
cultured dwelling-place ai civilized millions of British blood and British 
hearts. The noble stream which expands before the crested heights of 
Quebec has been churned into foam over the rocks of Niagara, and threaded 
its mazy course among the romantic intricacies of "the Thousand Isles." It 



1759.] THE APPROACH TO QUEBEC, 267 

has yet a course of some hundreds of miles to fulfil before it pours into the 
Atlantic its immense accumulation of waters, the drainage of half a continent. 
The rock on which Quebec is built is provided, as it were, expressly by 
nature to guard and sentinel the passage of the river, and to command the 
surrounding territory, as from a throne. Viewed from below, nothing can 
be more striking than its black and perpendicular ridges, crested with frown- 
ing battlements and quaint foreign-looking steeples, covered with tin. 
Crouching at the foot of these embattled bulwarks is a singular mass of 
antique constructions, resembling some dilapidated feudal town on the Euro- 
pean continent, with pointed roofs and curious gables, and so completely 
French in style as to carry us at once from the remote banks of the St. Law- 
rence to those of the Loire or the Garonne. It consists of wharfs, warehouses, 
and a maze of dark and narrow streets, perilously overhung by the perpendi- 
cular rock, of which an avalanche of mighty fragments has more than once 
fallen and crushed all beneath into a heap of ruins. The whole of this part 
of the city has been gradually won, by piles and embankments, from the bed 
of the river, which formerly washed the base of the precipice. All sorts of 
craft are grouped about the bustling quays, from the hollow " dug out," or 
bark canoe of the Indian, and light market boats, conveying hay or provisions 
to vessels of large burden from Europe, and the noble ships of war which 
guard the passage, and which, huge as is their bulk, seem almost insignificant 
from the immensity of the stream on which they are anchored. In the midst 
of the river, in the distance, appears the Isle of Orleans, where Jacques 
Cartier, the first explorer of the St. Lawrence, and founder of Quebec, first 
anchored his roving bark, and where Wolfe nov/ landed with his troops. The 
main channel of the river appears between this and the village of Point Le-vi, 
on the right of the picture, while on the opposite shore is seen a long suburb 
of wliite cottages, leading to the Falls of Montmorenci. A range of dusky 
mountains encloses the whole scene as with a magnificent frame. 

The city, which is not of any great extent, is exceedingly irregular, with 
steep and winding streets, break -neck flights of steps, and the most picturesque 
and fantastic variety of dwellings. Nothing here of the " Jack of the Bean- 
stalk " towns of the United States, as Mrs. Trollope calls them, all bran new 
and shining, and looking as if built in a night, or chopped off" per mile to 
order, with churches, hotels, and museums ready made to hand. Quebec has 
a dingy old-world look about it, particularly refreshing to the lover of the" 
picturesque, as we come from the gay but formal cities of New York and 
Pliiladelphia. The population is equally curious and mixed; here are few or 
none of the spruce and active American citizens, but a motley collection of 
Indians, now submissive to the faith whose first apostles they tortured and ate ; 
half-breeds and voyageurs, who cut and conduct the rafts of timber from the 
distant recesses of the forests, in fantastic variety of costume ; Canadian 
" habitans," descendants of the original French settlers, the very counterpart 
of the peasants of some remote corner of France, haters of innovation and in- 
vincible in their prejudices; while groups of hardy Scotch or squalid Irish 

2 M 2 



2G3 APPEARAXCE OF QUEBEC IX WINTER. [1759. 

emigrants linger about the quays, wliose forlorn appearance might well excite 
our pity, did we not know that a few years will witness a change in their 
condition, from pauperism to competence; from the saddening consciousness 
that they are the miserable outcasts of an overburdened land, to the proud 
feeling that they are become the founders of future states. Among this min- 
gling crowd are seen the more aristocratic inhabitants, traders or merchants. 
Catholic priests in long black robes, the noblesse of French origin, and espe- 
cially the military, w^ho move among the denizens of the land to which they are 
for a while exiled, with jDroud independence, like the Roman legionaries upon 
a distant and barbarous frontier. 

But one should see Quebec in winter, fully to appreciate its picturesque 
peculiarities. From the heights of the citadel, the eye then rests upon what 
seems one boundless lake of milk ; all irregularities of ground, fences, bounda- 
ries, and copsewoods are obliterated ; the tops of villages, with their Catholic 
steeples, from which the bell booms plaintive and solitary through the wintry 
air, and scattered farms, j)cep up like islets in an ocean, with here and there 
dark lines of pine-forest, the mast of some ice-locked schooner, or the curling 
smoke of a solitary Indian wigwam. The town has its strange dark gables 
and pointed roofs all relieved with the lustrous white snow ; its rugged streets 
are one day choked with heaped-up ice and di'ift, and, upon a slight thaw, 
flooded with dirty kennels and miniature cascades, which the next frost con- 
verts into a dangerous and slippery surface. Cloth or carpet boots, goloshes 
with spikes to their heels, iron-pointed walking sticks, are the only weapons 
defensive a,gainst broken limbs and necks. All the world are muffled in furs 
and skins : the Indian is seen with his singu.lar snow-shoes, and the gay 
sledging parties dash about to the merry music of the jingling bells upon their 
horses, over the glittering and frosty Avaste. That branch of the river to the 
north of the Isle of Orleans is always frozen over, and sometimes, but rarely, 
the main channel, when produce of all sorts is conveyed across the river to 
the city from the surrounding country, and groups of habitans and Indians 
are seen tracking their way across the far-stretching expanse of snow-covered 
ice. In general, however, the main channel remains open, and encumbered 
with vast masses of ice ; and a strange sight it is, to see the dexterous and fear- 
less boatmen striving with iron-pointed j)oles to raise their vessels upon the 
surface of these floating ice-bergs, and thus descend the stream with them, 
till they find open water on which to launch their barks anew upon the 
troubled and perilous flood. 

Quebec, as the bulwark of British America, is, as may be supposed, forti- 
fied with the greatest care. About forty acres of the level table-land which 
crowns the precipice are covered with works, carried to its edge, and con- 
nected by massive w^alls and batteries with the other defences of the place. 
Both the vipper town and the steep streets of the lower are abundantly de- 
fended, and the place may be pronounced almost impregnable. 

Such are the features of the scene at the present day, and in all essential 
respects they were the same when Wolfe stood on the shore of the Isle of 



1759.] WOLFE TAKES POSSESSION OF POINT LEVI. 269 

Orleans and surveyed the tremendous strength of the fortress, which he had 
staked his reputation on reducing. The lilies of France waved from the crest 
of the citadel, to the west of the place was an inaccessible precipice, on the 
north-east it was covered by the river St. Charles, while every spot where 
the invader might attempt to land was fortified with all the skill of INIontcalm, 
who awaited the attack with a force of twelve thousand men. Nothing had 
been heard of Gage or Amherst, who Avere to have fallen down the St, Law- 
rence, and assisted in the reduction of the city, and but four or five short 
months remained before frost and snow must compel the besiegers to retreat. 
Such a prospect might well have appalled a less determined spirit, but Wolfe 
was one whose courage and resources only rose with the emergency, and he 
determined to lose no time in striking a decisive blow. 

The day had been wild and stormy, but the night fell serene, though some- 
what overcast. About midnight a crashing discharge of artillery disturbed 
the bivouac of the British army, and the sudden glare of several exploding 
fire-ships lighted up the river, the city, the fleet, and the anxious faces of 
the soldiery. The terrible missives of destruction were seen to drift down 
upon the English ships, when suddenly a fleet of boats jDut ofl", with daring 
courage approached .the burning vessels, and towed them to the distant 
shore, beyond the power of inflicting any injury. 

The first measure adopted by Wolfe was to detach a force to take possession 
of Point Levi, a village on the southern shore of the St. Lawrence, immedi- 
ately opposite to Quebec, an operation which was performed with entire 
success ; and here batteries were commenced for the purpose of bombarding 
the city. It was with feelings of deep vexation that Montcalm beheld the 
enemy establish themselves in this threatening position, which he had pro- 
posed to occupy with a strong force, but had been overruled by the inter- 
ference of the ]\Iarquis of Vandrcuil, the French governor of Canada. 

Meanwhile the English general endeavoured to effect a landing to the 
eastward of the town, whence he might carry on operations against the city. 
This plan presented, however, many formidable difficulties. Three miles 
from Quebec, the rapid river INIontmorency intersects the lofty plain, and 
suddenly throwing itself headlong over its precipitous edge, forms one of the 
most magnificent cascades in North America. "V^'liile the fleet drew as near 
the shore as possible, and, to mask the real design, opened a fire on Mont- 
calm's defences, Wolfe crossed over from the Isle of Orleans, and landed 
his forces near the foot of this fall. At the present day the river is spanned 
by a bridge close above it, but at that time there was no ford nearer than 
three miles, through a woody country, and the enemy's Hangers picked ofl" the 
parties sent to reconnoitre. The prospect in tliig quarter was very dis- 
couraging, nor was any decisive effect produced by the batteries of Point 
Levi, which, though they inflicted great injury upon the lower toAvn, fell 
harmless ujDon the lofty embattled crags of the citadel. Wolfe now deter- 
mined to examine the ground above the town. A little before midnight a 
few ships of war sailed past the walls, and Avcre not discovered until too late 



270 A M HER ST PRE VENTED FR 031 JOINING WOLFE. [1 759. 

to point the guns at them, though "Wolfe nearly fell a victun to his temerity, 
the mast of the barge in Avhich he was reconnoitring being shot away. The 
difficulties of the ground were so great in this quarter also, that he con- 
tented himself with ordering Carleton to take possession of Point aux 
Trembles, a short distance above the city, and thence to keep up a harassing 
warfare upon the surrounding neighbourhood. 

Time was now fast slipj)ing away, and yet no sensible effect had been pro- 
duced, and in his situation, Wolfe well knew that inaction must be fatal. Nor 
was the anxiety of Montcalm less harassing ; the place was short of provisions, 
the discontented provincials with difficulty kept together, while with the forces 
of Amherst on the west, and the English fleet blockading the river, all hope 
of succour was impossible. But winter, even more than its impregnable po- 
sition, had always been the great defence of Quebec, and could he but hold 
out until its advent, the enemy, he well knew, must be forced to an igno- 
minious retreat, and this attempt to gain possession of the stronghold of the 
French power in America prove equally abortive with the former. 

Strong as were the intrenchments of the French army between the INIont- 
morency and St. Charles, Wolfe determined on the desperate attempt to 
storm them. The vigilance of INIontcalm had not overlooked a single point 
where attack was practicable. Wolfe selected, however, what appeared the 
weakest, to penetrate the lines of his indefatigable opponent. He accord- 
ingly moved over a large force to the vicinity of the Falls of Montmorency, 
on the eastern side of which he had already established his batteries. The 
attempt was most gallantly made, but a succession of unforeseen disasters 
concurred to render it entirely unsuccessful. 

"V\niilst Wolfe was anxiously looking for the arrival of Amherst, the lat- 
ter had been vainly endeavouring to repair to his assistance. Having as- 
sembled his forces, among whom was a body of Rangers under Major Rogers, 
at Fort Edward, he passed up Lake George, and on the 26th of July appeared 
before the walls of Ticonderoga, the siege of which was rapidly urged forward. 
The garrison however did not await the issue, bvit having blown up the fort, 
retreated upon Crown Point, whither Amherst lost no time in following them. 
This fort, of which the remains are still preserved with care, was, as already 
observed, built by the French, and before the erection of Ticonderoga was the 
frontier stronghold of their power on the south. Its position on a peninsula in 
Lake Cham]Dlain was exceedingly well chosen, but the works were in a very 
dilapidated state, and when Amherst approached it with his forces, he found 
that the French had evacuated it and fallen back upon Isle aux Noix in the 
river Sorel, where they resolved to make a final stand, to prevent the English 
general penetrating to the St. Lawrence and advancing to the assistance 
of Wolfe. Amherst made every effiart to overcome the difficulties of his posi- 
tion, but without success. Some delay was occasioned by the construction of 
vessels to carry his munitions and troops to attack the French, but a succes- 
sion of storms and disasters rendered all liis plans abortive, and he was re- 
duced to the alternative of risking the loss of his army from the severity of 



1759.] TEE EXPEDITION UNDER GENERAL PRIDEAUX. 271 

winter in a wild and hostile country, or of remaining in a state of mgionous 
inaction till tlie next season. Accordingly he laid up his army at Crown 
Point, where he had already begun the construction of a new fortress, which 
was afterwards completed by the English government, at an expense of two 
millions sterling. 

Neither could the third detachment of the army, destined to co-operate in 
the siege of Quebec, succeed in effecting a junction with Wolfe. Its com- 
mand devolved on General Prideaux, who, accompanied by a large force of 
Indians, brought together by the influence of Johnson, and commanded by 
him, sailed from Oswego, to besiege Fort Niagara, already so often alluded to 
as being built by the French to command the passage to the upper lakes. 
Prideaux being killed by the bursting of a gun soon after the opening of the 
siege, the command next fell upon Johnson, who learning that a body of tAvelve 
hundred French troops and as many Indians Avere advancing to raise the 
siege, took up a well-chosen position to intercept them, and put them to an 
entire rout, taking a large body of prisoners ; which compelled the garri- 
son shortly afterwards to surrender. Having accomplished this first object, 
he was to have descended Lake Ontario and the river St. Lawrence to 
Quebec, for the purpose of assisting Wolfe, but was prevented from doing so 
by shortness of provisions and the want of suitable shipping. 

The failure of these joint expeditions, which looked so plausible upon paper, 
not from incapacity on the part of the military commanders, but from the ob- 
stacles inherent to a campaign in a wild country, where vast distances must be 
traversed, and where munitions of every sort must be carried by an army, and 
where the season for operations is extremely short, fully justified the earnest en- 
treaty of Walpole to Pitt, that he would look chiefly to the enterprise by way 
of the St. Lawrence, as the only reliable means of reducing the Canadian 
capital within the twelvemonth. 

Meanwhile, the bitter disappointments he had experienced, acting upon the 
already enfeebled constitution of Wolfe, produced an attack of fever, which for 
some weeks laid him entirely prostrate. During his gradual recovery, he re- 
ceived intelligence of the successes of Amherst and Johnson, but learned that 
no co-operation was to be looked for at their hands during the present season. 
Upon this co-operation the ministry had fully calculated for the reduction of 
Quebec, and thus no disgrace could fairly have befallen Wolfe, because un- 
able to accomplish it singlehandcd. Determined nevertheless to leave no 
stone unturned that could afford a hope of success, though unable to leave 
his bed, he called a council of war to deliberate upon the anxious position of 
affairs, and the best mode of attacking the enemy, still himself suggesting 
various j)lans for storming their intrenchments to the eastward of the town, 
. convinced that the defeat of the French army must inevitably lead to the sur- 
render of the city. The brigadiers, however, after mature deliberation, adopted, 
at the suggestion of Colonel Townsend, a plan for attacking the city on its west- 
ern side ; and to this plan, daring as it was, Wolfe at once acceded. His confi- 
dence in the result, if we may judge by his last despatch to the ministry at home. 



272 LANDING OF WOLFE AND HIS ARMY. [1759. 

was very far from implicit; yet, while the plan itself was kept a profound 
secret, he issued his orders for carrying it into immediate execution. 

On the night of the 12th of September the remaining ships of war sailed up 
the river past the city, and rejoined those already assembled at Cape Rouge, 
while Brigadiers Monkton and Murray advanced from Point Levi up the 
southern side of the St. Lawrence, until they were abreast of the fleet. A 
number of flat-bottomed boats had been prepared, in which the first divisions 
of the army were now embarked. Although their immediate destination was 
unknown, general orders had been issued to hold themselves in readiness to 
attack the enemy, and they took their places in the boats Avith a glow of 
courageous anticipation. As the tide ebbed, about an hour before daylight, 
the boats fell down the river, keeping in the dark shadow of its lofty and pre- 
cipitous banks, for some miles abjve Quebec penetrated but by one solitary 
cove which afforded a practicable landing. Orders had been given to main- 
tain profound silence, and the soldiers sat still as statues in the boats. The 
weather was calm, and the stars were reflected in the broad bosom of the 
majestic river. The circumstances were exciting, the aspect of nature solemn 
and serene. The heart of AVolfe was peculiarly alive to such influences, and 
the tide of his feelings sought vent in the pathetic verses of Gray. As the 
muffled oars broke di'owsily, he repeated in a low trembling voice the Elegy 
in a Country Church-yard, and carried away Avith enthusiasm, exclaimed to 
his companions, " Now, gentlemen, I had rather be the author of that poem 
than take Quebec." Soon afterwards the boats swept into the shadoAvy coA'e, 
the thread of emotion Avas rudely snapped, and Wolfe leaped ashore Avith 
the determination to conquer or to die. 

The coA'e, AAdaich still retains, and Avill ever retain, his name, is about two 
miles from Quebec, and though a fsAV houses are now gathered around its 
semicircular basin, is still a romantic and solitary-looking spot. It is a nook 
in the long and perpendicular line of cliffs Avhich extends unbroken and inac- 
cessible for miles together. Its little round basin is OA='erhung Avith steep 
precipices, coA^ered Avith tall trees, through which a rough steep jDath 
ascended then, as it noAV ascends, from the margin of the water to the IcaxI 
of the plain above. 

The boats containing the 78th Plighlandcrs were SAvept by the tide a little 
beyond the cove, and landed at a point Avhere the steej:) precipice, some tAvo 
hundred feet high, was thickly covered Avith a groAvth of forest trees and 
brusliAvood, AAdiich till that hour had ncA'cr been disturbed by the foot of man. 
Up they scrambled neA'erthclcss, by aid of the boughs, and concealed from 
observation by the impenetrable darkness of the foliage. As they neared the 
top, hoAvever, the rustle of the leaA-es betrayed the Adcinity of a human foot to 
the Avatchful sentinel AA'ho paraded at the summit. " Qui a-Ia-c," he instantly 
exclaimed — " La France," Avas the ready ansAver ; and the sentinel paced on as 
before. At length, alarmed by the increasing noise, he called the guard, A\ho, 
after firing a volley doAvn into the trees, fled, Avith exception of M. Verger, 
their captain, Avho refused to sui-rendcr, but was almost instantly overpoAvcred. 



1759.] THE BATTLE ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM. 273 

Meanwhile the first division under "Wolfe, INIonckton, and Murray had land- 
ed, the others rapidly followed, and clambered up the narrow and rugged 
path which ascended from the cove below to the plain above, laboriously 
dragging after them a single piece of artillery, and as the morning dawned the 
whole force stood ready for action upon the Plains of Abraham. 

As the French outpost hurried back with the news to Quebec, INIontcalm 
could scarcely credit it, so completely had he been deceived by the feigned 
attacks of the English below the town. He had been heard to say that he had 
no fears for the place unless Wolfe should gain the heights on a level with 
the city, and attack him from thence, a contingency which he had deemed 
almost impossible. When however he beheld the enemy in this position, he 
either felt or affected to feel a confidence that Wolfe had taken a false and 
perilous step, " I see them," he said, " where they ought not to be ; if we must 
fight, I will crush them." Probably he thought that with a strong effort he 
could succeed in driving them over the precipice into the St. Lawrence before 
they could get up their artillery and invest the city. Whatever might be his 
motive, which has been much criticized by military men, and indeed regarded 
as a sort of infatuation, instead of remaining quietly within the walls, he gave 
orders for the immediate advance of his troops. 

While Montcalm was preparing for the attack, Wolfe, after a rapid survey 
of the Plains of Abraham, was engaged in forming his line of battle, which 
extended from the inaccessible precipices above the St. La^vrence on the right 
to the valley of the St. Charles on the left, with a reserve in the rear. 
The entire English force consisted of somewhat less than five thousand trained 
soldiers, while that of Montcalm amounted to seven thousand five hundred, 
but of these only a portion were regulars, the rest militia, upon whom no re- 
liance could be placed. 

The battle began with an attempt to turn the English left, which 
Townsend parried by adopting another disposition of the line. The two 
generals Avere now almost in presence of each other, AVolfe commanding 
the right and Montcalm the centre, where he had placed his veteran regi- 
ments. INIontcalm by throwing forward his light troops succeeded in prodvicing 
some confusion in the British ranks, to whom a retrograde movement must 
inevitably have been fatal ; but this dangerous tendency was checked by Wolfe, 
who ran to and fro, and exhorted his men to stand firm. This desultory sort 
of attack not succeeding, jSIontcalm directed a more formidable advance of his 
regulars against the British right. As they delivered their volley, Wolfe was 
struck in the wrist, but wrapping a handkerchief around it, hastened from rank 
to rank, urging his men to reserve their fire until the enemy were close upon 
them. Then indeed it was poured in with deadly and destructive effect, 
fairly shattering the heads of the advancing columns, and carrying dismay 
among the raw Canadian militia, who, panic-struck, broke and fled on all sides. 
Montcalm's presence of mind did not desert him in this terrible emergency, 
for availing himself of a small redoubt, he succeeded in presenting a second 
front to the enemy. On seeing this Wolfe, without the loss of a moment, 

2 N 



274 DEATH OF WOLFE AND MONTCALM. [1759. 

ordered the wliole British line to advance, which they did with such 
simultaneous impetuosity, that in spite of a fierce resistance at certain points, 
the French and Canadians were swept away like chaff before the Avhirlwind, 
m spite of repeated attempts made to rally them by their chivalrous commander, 
who falling, at length, mortally wounded, was carried within the city. 

An attempt made by Bougainville, who arrived with his forces on the field 
when the fite of the battle was decided, to retrieve the fortunes of the day, 
was defeated by the able dispositions of Townsend, and the broken and 
panic-stricken fugitives, pursued and cut down by the fiery Highlanders with 
their trenchant claymores, sought safety within the walls of Quebec. 

While the resistless tide of victory was thus flowing on, the faintness of 
dissolution v/as falling upon the senses of the British general. His first wound 
in the wrist had been but slight, but he received a second soon after in the 
body, and a ball from the redoubt struck him a third time on the breast. 
Unable to stand, he desired an officer to support him, " that his brave fellows 
might not see him fiiU," and sinking do^vn, was borne a little in the rear. 
Carleton was also desperately wounded, as was also Colonel Barre, the inti- 
mate friend of Wolfe, and who afterwards became so celebrated. To^^aisend had 
taken the further direction of the field, and completed the total rout of the 
enemy. Some grenadiers exclaimed, " See, they run ! " " Who run ? " 
faintly, but eagerly inquired the dying man. " The enemy, sir," answered the 
officer, " they give way every where." " Now, God be praised, I die happy," 
he feebly uttered — the last words that ever passed his lips, which in a few 
moments became closed in the silence of death. 

The gallant Montcalm, who had been carried within the city, did not long 
outlive his victor. It had been his presentiment that he should not survive the 
fall of the colony ; his militia, he well knew, would give way at the first shock ; 
and he is reported to have said ere he died, " Since it was my misfortune to be 
discomfited and mortally wounded, it is a great consolation to me to be van- 
quished by so great and generous an enemy. If I could survive this wound, 
I would engage to beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded 
this morning, with a third of their number of British troops." AVlien informed 
that he could hardly survive tlirough the day, he replied, " So much the better, 
I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." The governor of the city 
desiring to have his commands for the defence, he replied, " My time is short, 
so pray leave me. I wish you all comfort, and to be happily extricated from 
your present perplexities." His remaining hours were spent in religious 
offices, and late in the evening he expired. He might justly entertain the 
proud conviction, that " posterity would have no reproach to bring against 
his memory." From a remarkable letter to his cousin, he appears to have 
well foreseen that "his defeat would one day be more serviceable to his 
country than a victory, — that the victor, in aggrandizing himself, would find 
his tomb even in that very aggrandizement ;" and he uttered a remarkable 
prediction, that was realized perhaps even before he had himself expected. 

" What I advance here, dear cousin," he observes, " may appear paradoxical. 



1759.] REMARKABLE LETTER WRITTEJST BY MOJYTCALIf. 275 

but on a moment's cautious reflection, a single glance at the position of things in 
America, and the truth of my opinion will appear undeniable. Men are 
obedient to force and necessity alone, that is, when they see before their eyes 
an armed power, always ready and able to constrain them, or when the chain 
of their necessities dictates to them a law. Beyond that point, no yoke, and 
no obedience ; they desire to be their own masters, and to live freemen, because 
there is nothing within or without which obliges them to give up that liberty, 
which is the fairest appanage, and the most precious prerogative of humanity. 
Such is mankind, and on this point the English, whether by education or by 
sentiment, feel far more strongly than other men. The. sense of constraint 
torments them, they must breathe the atmosphere of freedom, and without 
this they feel out of their element. But if such are the Englishmen of 
Europe, far more so are the Englishmen in America. Great part of these 
colonists are children of the men who expatriated themselves in those trou- 
blous times when Old England, a prey to divisions, was attacked in her 
rights and privileges, and they went forth to seek in America a country 
where they might live and die in freedom, and almost independence ; and 
these children have not degenerated from the republican sentiments of their 
fathers. Others are men transported thither by the government for their 
crimes. The rest, in short, are a collection from the different nations of 
Europe, who hold little to Old England by heart and affection ; and all in 
general care but little for the English king or parliament, 

" I know them well, not by foreign report, but by correspondence and 
recent information All the colonies have, happily for them- 
selves, reached a very flourishing condition, they are numerous and rich, they 
contain within their own bosom all the necessities of life. England has been 
foolish and dupe enough to allow the arts, trades, and manufactures to become 
established among them, that is to say, she has allowed them to break the 
chain of wants which attached them to, and made them dependent upon, her- 
self. Thus all these English colonies would long ago have thrown off the 
yoke, each province would have formed a little independent republic, if the 
fear of seeing the French at their doors had not proved a bridle to restrain 
them. As masters, they would have preferred their countrymen to strangers, 
taking it nevertheless for a maxim to obey either as little as possible. But once 
let Canada be conquered, and the Canadians and these colonists become one 
people, and on the first occasion when Old England appears to touch their 
interests, do you imagine, my dear cousin, that the Americans will obey? 
And in revolting, what will they have to fear ?" How remarkably these an- 
ticipations were fulfilled, the course of our narrative will speedily disclose. 

But to return to the closing scenes of the taking of Quebec. On the day 
after the battle, in the general orders dated 14th of September, 1759, — Plains 
of Abraham, Parole, — WOLFE, countersign ENGLAND, — the remaining 
general officers expressed the praises due to the bravery of the soldiers, and 
lamented that he who lately commanded them had not survived so glorious 
a day, in order to give the troops their just encomium. They express their 

2 N 2 



276 SURREXDER OF CANADA TO THE BRITISH CROWK[17G0, 

confidence that the fatigues of the siege " ■will be supported with true spirit, 
as this seems to be the period which will in all probability determine our 
American laboiu-s." This expectation was speedily realized. The French 
troops under the Marquis de Vandreuil and Bougainville retreated to Cape 
Rouge, and despatched messengers to M. de Levi at Montreal. The marquis 
then proposed " that they should take their revenge on the morrow, and en- 
deavour to wipe off the disgrace of that fatal day ; " but this advice was justly 
set aside as chimerical, and the army, instead of advancing, fell back. A 
message was sent to the commandant of Quebec, promising him immediate 
succour, and iu"ging him to hold out to the last extremity ; but Townsend 
pressed him so vigorously, that on the 18th of September he surrendered the 
city, the English troops marched in, and the flag of England soon waved 
triumphantly from the crest of the citadel. 

The body of Wolfe was solemnly escorted to the beach by his mourning 
army, and conveyed for sepulture to England. A monument was erected to 
his memory in Westminster Abbey. A small pillar marks the spot where he 
fell, on the Plains of Abraham ; and a pyramid since raised upon the heights 
of the city, simply bearing the names of "WOLFE" and '^MONTCALM," 
is destined to perpetuate the common memory of these gallant chiefs, and of 
the memorable battle in which they gloriously fell. 

Though driven from Quebec, the French had not yet given up all hopes of 
defending Canada. After the battle on the Plains of Abraham, the main body 
of their army fell back upon Montreal, where M. de Levi, who had succeeded 
IMontcalm, resolved on a vigorous effort to recover Quebec. He at first me- 
ditated a covp-de-main during the winter, but found the English too much 
on the alert ; but in April, when the frost broke up, he descended the St. 
Lawreuce to Point aux Trembles, witliin a few miles of Quebec. The 
English garrison under General Murray had dwindled by sickness to three 
thousand men, but with this handful of brave men he boldly marched out to 
attack a body of three times their number. After a hard-fought action he 
was compelled to abandon his artillery, and retire -wdthin the walls. De 
Levi soon erected his batteries, and opened a heavy fire on the walls, but 
Murray had succeeded in mounting so numerous an artillery that the French 
guns were almost silenced. A British fleet soon after made its appear- 
ance, and compelled De Levi to retire to Montreal, at which city the Marquis 
de Vandreail, concentrating his remaining forces, determined to make a last 
stand for the defence of Canada. 

The struggle however was speedily over. No sooner had the season for 
operations arrived, than Amherst advanced with an army of ten thousand 
regulars and provincials, and being joined by Johnson at Oswego with one 
thousand Indians, made his appearance before Montreal on the very day that 
Murray, advancing from Quebec, landed within a few miles of the city; while 
the next day appeared Colonel Haviland, from Crown Point. As these 
combined forces rendered resistance impossible, the French governor capitu- 
lated, and the whole of Canada was surrendered to the British crown. 



i:C0, 01.] QUARRELS WITH THE CHEROKEE S. 211 

Nothing could exceed tlie exultation of the northern colonies at this 
long-desired consummation of a struggle which had continued for so many 
years, and involved their frontiers in a desolating warfare. Their boundaries 
too received an immense expansion, New York claiming, by virtue of treaties 
with the Six Nations, the whole territory northward to the St, Lawrence, and 
westward to the great lakes, while the New England States were free to 
advance northward and eastward without any further check. But above all, 
by the conquest of the French, who had so long kept them in a state of con- 
tinual alarm, the colonists beheld themselves virtual masters of the entire con- 
tinent, and their sense of dependence upon the mother country was propor- 
tionably weakened, at the same time that military habits and feelings had been 
greatly fostered among them by the recent wars. 

During these struggles between the French and English, the Indians, whom 
they had engaged in the dispute, were gradually lessening in numbers, while 
upon pretext of different treaties artfully extorted from them, or made with- 
out any regard to their claims, they were more and more pushed from the old 
hunting-grounds of their fathers. The formidable Six Nations, who had so 
long braved the power of the French, now became less prominent in the 
American annals. Many of the tribes hostile to the English retired to Canada, 
while the Penobscots submitted to the English. After the reduction of Fort 
Duquesne, the Cherokees, who had acted as allies to the English, had become 
involved in quarrels with them. The origin of the quarrel is doubtful, but 
probably arose from encroachment, or hasty revenge, on the part of the whites, 
It is said that the Cherokees seized upon some horses which they found 
running wild through the woods, but which in reality belonged to Virginian 
owners, and that the latter, supposing it to be a theft, killed twelve or four- 
teen of them ; an outrage deeply resented by the Indians, who, inflamed by 
French influence, were led to believe that the English meditated their entire 
extermination. Accordingly they fell, in their cruel fashion, upon the ex- 
posed frontiers. On hearing that Governor Littleton was preparing to march 
against them, they sent a deputation to Charleston to negociate a peace. Lit- 
tleton, however, determined to strike terror into the Cherokees, by marching 
into their territories with a large force ; but being compelled to fall back, was 
glad to accept the offer he had lately spurned, and shortly afterwards con- 
cluded a peace with the Indians. 

It was not long, however, before fresh disputes broke out, and the Cherokees, 
raising a considerable body of warriors, awaited the attack of the English 
with a determined spirit. An express was sent to General Amherst, who de- 
tached some troops under Colonel Montgomery to the relief of the Carolinians. 
Strengthened by their militia, he marched into the Cherokee country, re- 
lieved Fort Prince George, which they .had blockaded, and ravaged all the 
Indian settlements on his way. Finding the Cherokees rather inflamed than 
intimidated by these proceedings, he advanced to Etchoe, their capital, not 
far from whence they had posted themselves to oppose his further progress. 
In doing so he had to pass through a hollow valley covered with brushwood. 



278 THE CHEROKEES DEFEATED BY COL. GEANT [17C0, CI. 

tlirougli which rau a muddy river with clay banks, the Thermopylae of these 
Cherokee regions. To scour this dangerous pass Colonel Morrison advanced 
with a company of Rangers, when the Indians, suddenly springing from their 
ambush, killed him at the first shot, Avith several of his man. The light in- 
fantry being now moved forward, a warm fire was maintained on both sides, 
but the Indians still maintained the post without flinching, till, threatened in 
the flank by a movement of the agile Highlanders, they slowly fell back and 
reluctantly yielded the pass, posting themselves upon a hill, to watch the 
movements of their invaders. Supposing that INIontgomery was advancing 
towards Etchoe, they ran to give the alarm to their wives and children, and 
prepare for a still more desperate resistance. But the English commander, 
after this specimen of Indian resolution, and in the heart of a wilderness 
where a reverse must be fatal to his army, resolved to retrace his steps, first to 
Fort Prince George, and afterwards to Charleston, Avhence he was shortly 
afterwards summoned to rejoin the army of the north. 

The Cherokees now blockaded Fort Londoun on the Virginia frontier, 
the garrison of which was entirely cut off from all communication with their 
brethren. Famine at length compelled them to surrender, on condition of 
being conducted to Virginia or Carolina. But Avhen they had advanced some 
miles from the fort they were surrounded by a body of Indians, who oj)ened 
a heavy fire upon them, which killed Captain Demere the commandant and 
nearly thirty others, and carried off the remainder into captivity. The Che- 
rokees, who could now muster three thousand warriors, continued to range 
the frontiers, and inspired such fear that Amherst was earnestly solicited to 
send back the troops he had Avithdrawn. The conquest of Canada being now 
achieved, the Highland regiment commanded by Colonel Grant returned to 
Carolina, and being reinforced by the colonial militia and scouts dressed in 
Indian costume, advanced to the spot where Montgomery had been repulsed. 
The Cherokees bravely maintained the struggle for several hours, but were at 
length entirely defeated ; theu' toAvns and magazines destroyed, their corn- 
fields ravaged, and they themselves forced to retreat into the desolate recesses 
of their mountains. Their resources being thus cut off, these intrepid warriors 
were compelled to sue for a peace. In order to obtain it, they were at first 
required to deliver four warriors to be shot at the head of the army, or to 
furnish four fresh Indian scalps within twenty days ; a degrading and horrible 
condition, from which they were relieved by the intercession of one of their 
aged chiefs. 

Two years afterwards the DelaAvares tind ShaAvanese, proA'oked on one hand 
by aggressions on the part of the settlers, Avho noAV began to push across the 
Alleghanies, and on the other incited by the arts of the French, broke out 
into open hostilities, in which they Avere soon after Avards joined by numerous 
other tribes. They put the English traders to death, seized simultaneously 
nearly all the outlying forts and massacred their garrisons, and dealt destruc- 
tion upon the exposed frontiers. Forts Pitt, Niagara, and Detroit still held 
out, into wliich reinforcements Avere tlu'OAvn after some severe encounters 



1761.] ATTEMPT TO ENFORCE THE ACTS OF TRADE. 279 

with tlie Indians. These outrages provoked a bloody retaliation on the part 
of a body of Scotch and Irish settlers in Paxton township, Pennsylvania. 
They attacked a friendly and harmless tribe living under the guidance of 
some Moravian missionaries, murdered men, women, and children indis- 
criminately, forced their way into Lancaster workhouse, where some of the 
fugitives had taken refuge, and killed them, and then marched down to Phi- 
ladelphia, to exterminate a body of Indians who had fled to that city. It was 
wdth much difficulty Franklin succeeded in forming a body of militia, to check 
these disorders, and in compelling the " Paxton boys," as they were called, 
to retire to their own abodes. It required a colonial levy and two expedi- 
tions into the Indian country, to break up this wide-spread and dangerous 
combination of the tribes, and to force them to consent to peace. 

In the midst of the joy created by the conquest of Canada, an incident 
occurred which significantly foreshadowed the future. Francis Bernard, lately 
governor of New Jersey, had been transferred to that of INIassachusetts, and 
displayed from the first remarkable zeal in carrying out the ministerial policy, 
and abridging the illegal practices of the colonists, to which his predecessor 
Pownall had more wisely shut his eyes. This zeal was seconded by Hutchin- 
son, who had lately been appointed lieutenant-governor, and also chief justice, 
to the disappointment of Otis, who had been promised a seat on the bench by 
Pownall. It was at this juncture that, owing to a trade opened by the colonists 
with the French islands, by which they obtained supplies, orders had been 
given by the English ministry for the stricter enforcement of the acts of trade, 
already so odious to the mercantile interest and the people at large. To pre- 
vent evasion of the law, orders were sent to apply to the judicature for " writs of 
assistance," that is, for permits to break into and search any suspected place, 
■ — never granted in America, unless by special warrant and for some particular 
object. It was not long before the custom-house officers applied for the issue 
of the writs, to which the merchants determined to ofler the most strenuous op- 
position, and retained Thatcher and young Otis, son of the speaker, to plead 
on their behalf. Otis, as advocate of the Admiralty, was bound to argue in 
favour of the writs, but urged by patriotic zeal, which was not improbably 
quickened by the neglect or affront offered to his parent, he resigned his 
office, and accepted the retainer of the merchants. On the day appointed for 
the trial, the council-chamber of the old town-house in Boston was crowded 
with the officers of government and the principal inhabitants of the city. 
The case was opened by the advocate for the crown, who founded his long and 
elaborate argument on the principle, that the parliament of Great Britain is 
supreme legislator of the British empire. Thatcher, who was one of the first 
lawyers of the city, replied in an ingenious and able speech, resting his argu- 
ments upon considerations purely legal and technical. But Otis, who follow- 
ed him, was not to be restrained within these narrow and inconvenient limits. 
In the words of Adams, " he w^as a flame of fire, with a promptitude of classi- 
cal allusion, a depth of research, a rapid summary of historical events and dates, 
a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic glance into futurity, and a rapid 



280 OTIS' S SPEECH IN FAVOR OF FREE TRADE. [1761. 

torrent of impetuous eloquence, wliicli carried away all before him." From tlie 
rights of man in a state of nature, he reasoned up to those involved in the 
British constitution, of which he declared the colonists could not be deprived. 
He launched out into a glowing eulogy of the forefathers of America, and 
"reproached the nation, parliament, and king, Avith injustice, illiberality, ingra- 
titude, and oppression," in a strain of invective congenial to his excited audi- 
tory. Feelings too deeply seated, but of which the utterance had hitherto 
been cautiously suppressed, now burst into open expression. American liberty 
there struggled into sudden existence. " The seeds of patriots and heroes to 
defend the Non sine Diis animosus infans, to defend the 'vigorous youth, 
were then and there sown. Every man of an immense crowded audience 
appeared to me, says Adams, to go away as I did, ready to take arms 
against the ' writs of assistance.' Then and there was the first scene of the first 
act of opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and there 
the child Independence was born. In fifteen years he grew up to manhood, 
and declared himself free." This speech of Otis's gave a great impulse to his 
hearers, and through them was communicated to the people at large. Indeed, 
so powerful was the impression produced upon the public, that in his speech at 
the opening of the session, the governor thought prudent to recommend to 
the representatives to give no heed to declamations tending to promote a sus- 
picion of the civil rights of the people being in danger. The popularity of 
Otis became unbounded ; he was elected representative for Boston, and took , 
the lead among the opposition members of the house, who shortly afterwards 
led the van of resistance against the encroachments of the English ministry. 

The conquest of Canada being achieved, the British arms were turned 
against the French islands in the "West Indies. General Monckton sailed 
from New York with a formidable army, among the officers of which were 
Gates and Montgomery, afterwards celebrated in the revolutionary war. 
The expedition was completely successful, and all the islands then in possession 
of the French were wrested from them. A family compact between the differ- 
ent branches of the house of Bourbon had engaged Spain to side with France, 
and declare war against Great Britain. To humble this new enemy was the 
next object of her arms, and an expedition was shortly afterwards sent out, 
which wrested Havanna from Spain. The arms of England were every 
where triumphant, her cruisers swept the seas, and her enemies were 
obliged to consent to a humiliating peace. On the 3rd of November, 
1762, the treaty was signed at Fontaineblcau, by which the whole of North 
America, from the Mississippi to the Atlantic, was ceded to Great Britain. 
The island and city of New Orleans were ceded to Spain, with all Louisiana 
west of the Mississippi, then almost in a state of nature. Havanna was also 
restored to her in lieu of Florida, which now became incorporated with the 
English territory. 

This final cessation of intercolonial and frontier warfare restored, it is said, 
upwards of four thousand families to the homes from which they had been 
driven during its continuance. Relieved of the pressure from without, the 



. 17G3.] DEBT INCURRED BY ENGLAND DURING THE WAR. 281 

colonies every where expanded rapidly. On tlie north, the settlements of 
Maine began to advance to the Kennebec and Penobscot ; on the west, the 
green mountains of Vermont and the country extending to Lake Champlain 
received a rapid accession of settlers. A westward impulse was given to all 
the States ; New York pushed up the Mohawk valley to the lakes, Virginia 
and Pennsylvania poured across the Alleghanies. No colony felt the benefit 
of the peace more than Georgia, now relieved from its hostile peighbours the 
Spaniards, its rich swamps being turned to account for the cultivation of 
rice. English settlers advanced into Florida, and began to dcvelope its re- 
sources, which had remained almost dormant under the administration of its 
former occupants. 



CHAPTER V. 



FROM THE CONQUEST OF CANADA TO THE REPEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. 

The war which terminated in the conquest of Canada was but a part of the 
stupendous struggle waged by Great Britain against the power of France, 
and from which, if she had emerged with glory, she had also become saddled 
with a debt increased to a hundred and forty millions sterling. The pressure 
of taxation weighed heavily upon the nation, every art for raisiiig supplies at 
home had been already exhausted by the ministry, and it was now resolved to 
turn to the colonies for some alleviations of the public burdens. Before the . 
termination of the Canadian war, Pitt had declared liis intention, so soon as it 
was over, to adopt some method of compelling the colonists to contribute their 
quota towards any future expense incurred by the mother country in their 
defence. To carry out this design now became the serious stu 'y of liis suc- 
cessors in the administration. 

The colonies, however, had already suffered severely. Th' / had lost thii'ty 
thousand of their citizens, and incurred an expense of siAceen millions of 
dollars, of which parliament had reimbursed them only about a third. Ihey 
had taxed themselves very severely, and the leading States had incurred a 
heavy debt. Some of them indeed had not contributed their proper quota, 
and of the funds thus raised, the assemblies had always contrived to keep the 
management mainly in theu- own hands, and to concede as httle as possible to\ 
the royal governors. It became in consequence the object of the English, 
ministry to raise a fix:ed revenue, to which all the colonies should contribute / 
alike, and which should be placed entirely under thek own control. This 

2 o 



282 PROPOSAL TO RAISE MONEY BY TAXATION. [17C3. 

became more important to the ministry, since, either for the purpose of 
strengthening the executive power, which had become much Aveakened by the 
gradual encroacliments of the assemblies, or to defend the frontiers against the 
invasions of the Indians, they proposed to maintain a standing army in 
America ; a scheme which naturally created much suspicion and uneasiness 
on the part of the colonists, and to which they might accordingly refuse to 
contribute in the usual way of voluntary offerings. 

That parliament had the power to tax America, few in England, at that 
time at least, seemed to have entertained a doubt. The connexion between 
the parent country and her colonies was essentially vague and undefined. 
Parliament had always assumed the right to regulate the external commerce 
of the colonists, and even to prevent the growth of their domestic manufac- 
tures ; and although, as formerly exj^lained, these acts had always been resisted 
as arbitrary and impolitic, they had nevertheless been acquiesced in as legal. 
Now the distinction between this mode of raising a revenue and that of levy- 
ing a direct tax was so doubtful, as afterwards to be repudiated by the 
colonists themselves. Even Franklin, when a stamp tax had been mooted in 
the colonial congress held at Albany, had acquiesced in it as a legitimate 
and desirable plan for making all the colonies contribute their fair proportions 
alOve. Indeed the plan seems not to have originated with the English 
ministry, but to have been suggested to them by certain American merchants, 
and particularly by one Huske, who had obtained a seat in parliament, and 
who, reminding Grenville of the above-mentioned incident, expressed his be- 
lief that his countrymen were able to raise a liberal annual revenue for 
the support of government. Of their ability to do so, every one was 
fully convinced. Notwithstanding the temporary check to their onward 
career caused by the recent war, the colonists were, comparatively with 
the bulk of their English brethren, in such prosperous circumstances as to 
be objects of envy. The officers who returned home after the war, and 
whom the richer inhabitants had taken a pride in entertaining with an over- 
ostentatious hospitality, were full of the wealth and luxury of the colonists, 
and it was considered high time that " our subjects in America," as every 
English chimney-sweeper called them, should be made to bear their portion of 
a burden frcm which they had been hitherto comparatively exempted. Ac- 
cordingly wht 1, shortly after the war was over, Grenville first laid his plans 
before parliam nt, the resolution that " towards further defraying the ex- 
j)enses, it may be proper to charge certain stamp duties in the said colonies 
and plantations," was passed Avithout debate, while public feeling throughout 
the country was entirely in favour of carrying it into efiect. 

Very different was the feeling on the other side of the Atlantic as soon as 
the intentions of the English government began to be noised about. The 
colonists had long borne with impatience the increasing severity of restrictions 
which at once checked the development of their commerce, and reminded 
them of their humiliating dependence upon a foreign power. The feeling had 
become general that a stand must be made against any further encroachments. 



i:C3.] EXCITEMENT ABOUT TAXES IN THE COLONIES. 283 

jSTo soonei then did tins resolution of parliament to impose a direct tax become 
generally known, than the public mind was greatly excited and alarmed. 
With her usual foresight and vigilance, Massachusetts was foremost in oppo- 
sition to the government measure. Her representatives, assembled in general 
court, resolved "that the sole right of giving and granting the money of 
the people of that province was vested in themselves, and that the imposition 
of taxes and duties by the parliament of Great Britain upon a people who are 
not represented in parliament is absolutely irreconcilable with their rights. 
If ovir trade may be taxed," they continue, " why not our lands, why not the 
produce of our lands, and every thing we possess or use ? This we conceive 
annihilates our charter-rights to govern and tax ourselves. It strikes at our 
British privileges, which, as we have never forfeited, we hold in common with 
our fellow subjects Avho are natives of Britain. If taxes are laid upon us with- 
out our having a legal representation where they are laid, we are reduced 
from the character of free subjects to the state of tributary slaves." 

Such was the tenor of their instructions to their agent in London, who 
was also desired to use his utmost influence in urging the representatives of 
the other colonies to unite their remonstrances with his o^voi, while they at the 
same time appointed a committee to write to the colonies themselves, and 
urge them to apply for the repeal of the sugar duty, and to prevent the pass- 
age of the obnoxious Act ; measures which must be recognised as being the 
germ of that resistance afterwards so successfully carried out. Connecticut 
followed in the steps of Massachusetts, and a body of reasons why the colonies 
should not be taxed by parliament was drawn up by Fetel, the governor, 
himself an able jurist. Petitions to the king and the houses of parliament 
were drawn up in the different colonies, all breathing the same language of 
firm but respectful remonstrance. 

. AVliiie the different public bodies were thus combining their forces, influ- 
ential individuals were no less active in arousing and exciting the people by 
newspaper articles and pamphlets. Among these, one written by Otis, entitled 
" The Rights of the British Colonies asserted," produced the most consider- 
able sensation. The ground taken by the writer Avas broad, and its limits 
somewhat ill-defined and inconsistent. It conceded to parliament the power 
to enact general regulations for the government of the colonies, limited by 
*^ the natural rights of man and constitutional rights of British subjects," one 
of the latter being that of not being taxed without the consent of t]>?mselves 
or their representatives. The distinction between internal and external taxes 
was repudiated. It became thus evident that the opponents of taxation were 
gradually extending their ground, and becoming more impatient of foreign 
imposition in every shape, although at this period any forcible opposition to 
its exercise would have been generally denounced as unjustifiable, if not 
actually treasonable. 

Il was at this stage of the excitement that Franklin sailed from Philadelphia 
for London as agent for the colony of Pennsylvania. Since the time when the 
young printer, reprimanded, as we have seen, by the magistrates of Boston, and 

2 o 2 



284 FRANKLIN'S POSITION IN PENNSYLVANIA. [1763. 

discliarged from his brotlier's office, had arrived at Philadelphia with hardly 
a doUar in his jaocket, a wonderful alteration had taken place in liis circum- 
stances. Commencing there as a journeyman, he gradually worked his way 
up until he became a master printer, and acquhed, his only competitor being 
old and rich, the most lucrative business in the city, printed for the assembly, 
composed and issued his " Poor Richard's Almanac," was successively ap- 
pointed postmaster, j ustice of the peace, clerk of the assembly, and finally re- 
presentative for the city of Philadelphia. No man was more completely the 
architect of liis own fortune : laborious and self-denying, prudent and per- 
severing, he put in practice his own maxims — the quintessence of mere worldly 
wisdom. He was the embodiment of the practical and the useful. Every thing 
to his mind, even virtue herself, must be reduced to calculation, and carried 
out by rule and measure. No other man perhaps ever erected for his o'vvn 
practice a regular table, on which to mark down his daily shortcomings, and, 
adding them up at the end of the week, compute his moral progress or declension 
by an aritlimetical process. No one else ever set about emendating the 
Lord's prayer. Calm and passionless in temperament, Franklin was not 
without a certain enthusiasm, the enthusiasm, if we may so call it, of prac- 
tical benevolence. His incessantly active mind teemed with designs for the 
good of the public, and indeed of aU mankind. From the cleansing of streets 
and the reformation of stoves, up to the organizing a " United Party for Vir- 
tue," nothing came amiss to his hand. The actual good he accomplished was 
prodigious. He established the first library in Philadelphia, originated a 
philosophical society, enrolled and commanded the mihtia, and carried 
through by his practical management a scheme organized by his friend. Dr. 
Bond, for a hospital. No matter what was the design on foot, every one first 
asked — " Have you consulted Franklin on this business, and what does he 
think of it ?" Add to this, that his probity was above susj)icion, and his inde- 
pendence proof alike against official or popular influence; that his temper 
was placid and cheerful, and his manners simple and fuU of genial humour ; 
and it is not surprising that he should have obtained unbounded influence 
over his f ,llow citizens. As years rolled on, his public services grew more 
important, his moral consistency more tried and manifest, and the feelings of 
his countrymen deepened into gratitude and veneration. 

When Franklin became involved in the petty politics of Pennsylvania, he 
chose the side of the people, and was deputed to sail to England, to solicit 
from parhament the abolition of the proprietary government, just when the 
revolutionary ti'oubles first broke out. Having himself drawn up the abortive 
" Albany convention," he had a perfect knowledge of the temper of his coun- 
trymen, and of their feeling towards the parent state, and thus no one could have 
been every way more fitted to occupy the position of advocate in England for 
the claims of the colonists, which naturally fell into his hands. Besides the 
influence naturally derived from his respectable char-TCter and position, he was 
also preceded by his reputation as a man of science. By his well-known experi- 
ments and writings on electricity, he had raised the character of liis country- 



ITGo.] RECEPTION OF FRANKLIN IN ENGLAND. 28o 

men tlirougliout Europe. The learned in Paris could scarcely believe that 
*^ such a work conld have come from America.^'' On arriving in England he 
was received with distinction, and warmly welcomed into circles to which, after 
being separated from them by war, he ever cast back a longing, lingering look of 
attachment. The tenor of his letters amply shows that his original bent was 
a strong attachment to the mother country, and a strong feeling of loyalty 
towards the ruling monarch. In giving an account of Wilkes's mobs, the 
first directly radical outbreak in England, he observes, " "What the event will 
be, God only knows. But some punishment seems preparing for a people 
who are ungratefully abusing the best constitution and the lest king any 
nation was ever blessed with." Franklin's hereditary prejudices against the 
French were strong, and he seems to have penetrated, even then, their secret 
policy of soAA^ing dissension between England and her colonies. Speaking of 
De Guerchy, the French ambassador in 176T, he says, " He is extremely 
curious to inform himself about the affairs of America, pretends to have a great 
esteem for me on account of the abilities shown in my examination, has de- 
sired to have all my political writings, invited me to dine with him, -n-as very 
inquisitive, treated me with great civility, makes me visits, &c. I fancy that 
intriguing nation would like very well to meddle on occasion, and blow up the 
coals between Britain and her colonies, hut I hope ue shall give tliem no 
opporfiinifg." Such was his feeling at the outset of the revolutionary strug- 
gle ; how signally it was afterward reversed in both cases, will appear in the 
course of events. 

After his arrival in England, Franklin was consulted both by GrenviUe 
and his party, and also by Pitt and the opposition, as to the expediency of 
introducing the Stamp Act. Whatever his opinion might once have been, 
(and more than one instance of his modifying his opinions occurred in the 
course of the revolution,) he now explicitly declared that he considered it an 
unwise measure, to which the Americans would never submit, and to enforce 
which would imjoeril the unity of the empire. At length, in the session of 
1765, the Stamp Bill was formally brought before the House of Commons, 
where, owing to the preceding events, it now excited somewhat more attention 
and controversy than when it was first mooted, the galleries being crowded 
to hear the debate. The opposition firmly maintained the injustice no less than 
impolicy of the measure, alleging that by the ancient laws of the realm, tax- 
ation and representation had always gone hand in hand. The ministry re- 
plied, that the colonies were in fact virtually as mrich represented by the 
actual members, as were the great proportion of the English, who themselves 
enjoyed no vote ; that the right of taxing the colonists was derived from the 
responsibility and expense of defending them ; that the colonists must either 
be etilirelg dependent upon England, or entirely separated from her. The 
inconsistency of allowing a duty to be placed upon their exports, while they 
refused to submit to one upon stamps, Avas artfully pointed out. Finally, 
after ostentatiously enumerating the advantages derived by America from her 
connexion with Great Britain, and leaving out of sight the counterbalancing 



286 BARRJS defends THE COLONISTS. [1TC5. 

restrictions upon her commerce, Charles Townshend concluded with the fol- 
lowing words: "And now, will these Americans, children planted by our 
care, nourished uf) by our indulgence till they are grown to a degree of 
strength and opulence, and protected by our arms — will they grudge to con- 
tribute their mite to relieve us from the heavy weight of that burden which 
we lie under ? " 

At these words up started Colonel Isaac Barre, one of the most formidable 
debaters of the opposition. He was familiar with America, had been the friend 
of Wolfe, and was near his person in the battle of Quebec, in which he had 
lost one of his eyes. He has been suspected, and not without strong show 
of evidence, to have been the author of the celebrated " Letters of Junius." 
Sarcastically echoing the conchiding words of Townshend, he burst into a 
torrent of vigorous eloquence which fairly electrified the house. " They 
planted by your care ! (he said). No ; yovir oppressions planted them in Ame- 
rica. They fled from your tyranny, to a then uncultivated and inhosj^itable 
country, where they exposed themselves to all the hardships to which human 
nature is liable, and, among others, to the cruelties of a savage foe, the 
most subtle, and I will take upon me to say, the most formidable of any people 
upon the face of God's earth; yet, actuated by principles of true English 
liberty, they met all hardships with pleasure, compared with those they suf- 
fered in their ovra country, from the hands of those, who should have been 
their friends. 

" T/iey povrished rip by your indidgence ! They grew by your neglect of 
them. As soon as you began to care for them, that care was exercised in 
sending persons to rule them in one department and another, who were, per- 
haps, fche deputies of deputies, to some members of this house, sent to spy out 
their liberties, to misrepresent their actions, and to prey upon them — men 
whose behaviour, on many occasions, has caused the blood of those sons of 
liberty to boil within them — men promoted to the highest seats of justice; 
some who, to my knowledge, were glad, by going to a foreign country, to 
escape being brought to the bar of a court of justice in their omti. 

" Tliey protected by your arms ! They have nobly taken up arms in your 
defence, have exerted their valour amidst their constant and laborious industry 
for the defence of a country whose frontier was drenched in blood, while its 
interior parts yielded all its little savings to your emolument. And believe 
me, remember, I this day told you so, that same spirit of freedom which 
actuated that peoj)le at first, will accompany them still ; but prudence forbids 
me to explain myself further. God knows, I do not at this time speak from 
any motives of party heat ; what I deliver are the genuine sentiments of my 
heart. However superior to me, in general knov/ledge and experience, the 
respectable body of this house may be, yet I claim to know more of America 
than most of you, having seen and been conversant with that country. The 
people, I believe, are as truly loyal as any subjects the king has, but a people 
jealous of their liberties, and who will vindicate them if ever they should be 
violated. But the subject is too delicate — I will say no more.** 



17G5. ] PA TRICK HENR T'S MO VEMENT IN VIRGINIA. 287 

The liouse remained stupifiecl for a while by the energy of Barre, and no 
one ventured to reply to him. This striking incident relieved what was pro- 
nounced by Burke to have been the most languid debate he had ever heard, 
so ignorant of American affairs, and so indifferent about them, were the major- 
ity of the members of the House of Commons. The bill having been voted by 
a majority of a hundi'ed and fifty to fifty, was sent up to the Lords, by whom 
it was passed without opposition, and shortly afterwards received the royal 
assent. The ministers, backed by the king and country, declared their inten- 
tion of speedil)^ carrying it into vigorous execution. " The sun of liberty is set," 
wrote Franklin to his fi-iend Charles Thompson, on the very night Avhen the 
bill was passed ; " the Americans must light the lamps of industry and eco- 
nomy." " Be assured," was the reply, " that we shall light torches of a very 
different sort." 

In fact, since the first mooting of this impolitic measure, the progress of 
public irritation in America had been constantly on the increase, and, sus- 
])ended for a moment during the appeal to parliament, it acquired with the 
fatal news of the passing of the Stamp Act, a prodigious increase of force and 
activity. The house of burgesses in Virginia was then near the end of its 
session, and the older and more aristocratic of the body were uncertain and 
hesitating. But Patrick Henry, a young lawyer who had been elected a 
burgess but a few days before, and was ignorant of the forms of the house and 
the members that composed it, finding no one prepared to step forth, " alone, 
unadvised, and unassisted," wrote upon the blank leaf of an old law book, a 
few spirited resolutions, which he launched into the midst of the assembly. 
A violent debate ensued, and many threats and much abuse were heaped upon 
the daring young advocate by the party who were inclined to temporize or 
submit. The spirit of Henry rose with the occasion, and while descanting 
on the tyranny of the obnoxious Act, he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, 
" Ceesar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the 
Third — " " Treason," cried the speaker — " Treason, treason," echoed from 
every part of the hou.se. " It was one of those trying moments," well says 
his biographer, " which aire decisive of character. Henry faltered not for a 
moment, but rising to a loftier attitude, and fixing on the speaker an eye of 
the most determined fire, he finished his sentence with firmest emj^hasis, — 
" may projit by their exaivjile. If this be treason make the most of it. " 
The resolutions were passed in spite of opposition, and being circulated 
tlrroughout the colonies, tended greatly to fortify the determined spirit of 
opposition every where so rife. 

In Massachusetts, the passing of the Act was received with still deeper dis- 
satisfaction, and notwithstanding the advice of Governor Bernard, himself 
unfavourable to the imposition of the tax, of submission to the act of parlia- 
ment "as it was the sanctuary of liberty and justice," the representatives 
appointed a committee of nine to report on the best measures to be adopted 
under the emergency. This body recommended the assembly of a congress 
at New York, in the ensuing month of October, to consult together on the 



2S8 EXCITE3£EI\T AND RI0T8 IN BOSTON. [17C5. 

posture of affairs, and to consider of a general and humble address to his 
Majesty for relief. "With this momentous arrangement, the germ of all 
organized resistance to the ministerial proceedings, even Governor Bernard 
himself then thought it prudent to coincide. 

Meanwhile an explosion of popular fury broke out at Boston. There was 
an old elm tree in the city, which, from the association called the " Sons of 
Liberty " holding their meetings under it, had received the name of " Liberty 
Tree." Here the opponents of the Stamp Act were accustomed to assemble. 
On the morning of Thursday the fourteenth of August, two grotesque 
effigies of persons favourable to the tax, amongst which was that of Oliver, 
secretary to the colony, and who had been appointed to distribute the stamps, 
the other a huge hoot, with head and horns j^eeping out, intended to personify 
Lord Bute, were found suspended from its branches. The mob soon collected 
to witness the sight, and the excitement went on increasing till night, when the 
effigies were taken down, put upon a bier, and carried in solemn procession 
through the streets of the city, the populace shouting after them, " No Stamp 
Act ! " At length the procession halted before the door of a small building 
destined for the reception of the stamjjs, v/hich was instantly destroyed by the 
mob, who brandishing its fragments tumultuously hurried to the house of 
Oliver himself, and cutting off the head of his effigy, smashed in his windows, 
and after resting a while to burn the effigy returned to his house, which they 
completely gutted. Oliver, who had fled on the attack upon his premises, 
notified next day that he had written to resign his office. In the evening the 
mob assembled again before his house, and exacted a rencAval of the pledge, 
whereupon they greeted him with loud huzzas, and here for the moment the 
agitation was suspended. Shortly after, Jonathan INIayhew, one of the minis- 
ters of the city, preached a warm sermon against the Stamp Act, taking for his 
text the significant words, " I would they were even cut off Avhich trouble 
you." Next evening the rioting broke out anew with increased violence. 
A band of men disguised in masks and armed \n\\\ clubs, rushed first to the 
house of Faxon, marshal of the admu'alty, but being artfully taken off to the 
tavern, where their excitement was stimulated by drink, they next selected 
the residence of Story, registrar of the admiralty, for the object of their at- 
tacks. Here they destroyed the official and private papers, and whatever came 
to their hand. Meanwhile the mob continuing to increase, and with it the 
contagious frenzy of the rioters, they next proceeded to the house of the con- 
troller of the customs, where they committed the same disorders ; and becoming 
inflamed to madness by the additional stock of liquors discovered in his cel- 
lars, they finally hurried off to the house of Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, 
the most elegantly furnished in the AA'hole colony. Having sent aAvay his 
children to a place of safety, Hutchinson barricaded his doors and prepared 
for resistance, but the desperate fury of the rabble soon compelled him to seek 
safety in flight, and by four in the morning the contents of his establishment, 
plate, furniture, clothing, and money, together with all the public pa2:)ers, and 
a body of manuscripts relating to the liistory of the province which he had 



17C5.] GENERAL FEELING IN OTHER STATES. 289 

been thirty years in collecting, were entii-ely destroyed or carried off. Next 
morning Hutcliinson was obliged to appear at the usual sitting of the council 
without his robes, which had been destroyed by the mob, while the other 
members were clothed in their usual costume. The court, to mark their 
sense of the outrage received by their president, adjourned until the middle of 
October. Mayhew sent to Hutchinson next day to disclaim all sympathy with 
the rioters. The more influential citizens assembled at Faneuil Hall to take 
order for the prevention of such outrages for the future. A civic guard was 
organized to patrol the city. A reward was offered for the apprehension of 
the ringleaders, and one or two were taken, but refused to betray their ac- 
complices, and although the rioters were well known, no one ventured to 
come forward for theu* conviction. 

Similar manifestations of public feeling occurred in all the colonies. On 
the 24th August, at Providence, Rhode Island, appeared a Gazette extra- 
ordinary, headed with the words Vox popuU,vox Dei, in large characters ; and 
below, the sentence of St. Paul, " Wliere the Spirit of the Lord is, there is 
liberty." The writers boldly panegyrised the riots of the Bostonians, as 
proving that they had not degenerated from the spirit of their forefathers. 
Squibs and pasquinades were circulated freely, and the effigies of the ob- 
noxious di-agged about the streets, and afterwards hanged and burned amidst 
the acclamations of the populace. In Connecticut, Ingersoll, the agent for 
the stamps, was compelled to promise, under pain of seeing his house de- 
molished, that he would either send back the stamps on their arrival, or throve 
open the magazines containing them to the discretion of the people. At 
Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the bells were tolled, and notice given to the 
friends of Liberty to hold themselves in readiness to attend her funeral. A 
coffin was prepared neatly labelled, " Liberty, aged clxv years," and carried 
in funeral procession about the town, while minute guns were fired until the 
grave destined to receive the coffin was reached. An oration in honour of 
the deceased was then pronounced, when suddenly some remains of life hav- 
ing been discovered, poor Liberty was taken up again, and the inscription 
altered, while the bells struck up a merry peal. At New York the obnoxious 
bill, headed, " Folly of England, and Ruin of America," was contemptuously 
hawked about the streets. Satirical pamphlets, and cutting articles in the 
journals, constantly added fresh fuel to the flame. One of those published at 
Boston bore for its title, " The Constitutional Courier, or Considerations im- 
portant to Liberty, without being contrary to Loyalty." But the device 
adopted was most original, representing a serpent cut into eight pieces, the 
head bearing the initials of New England, and the other pieces those of the 
other colonies as far as Carolina, the whole being surmounted by the signifi- 
cant inscription in large letters, " Unite or Die." 

These acts of intimidation were principally the work of the lower classes, 
but set in motion, there is little doubt, by others who kept behind the scenes. 
Bodies of the more ardent patriots, originating in Connecticut, spread through 
the northern colonies, calling themselves " Sons of Liberty," after Barre's 

2 p 



290 ARBIVAL OF THE STAMPS IN AMERICA. [1765. 

famous speech, and adopting the principle of forcible resistance to tyranny, 
seem to have taken the initiation in precipitating a popular outbreak. The 
members of this association solemnly pledged themselves to march at their 
own cost to the relief of any who should be in danger from the Stamp Act 
and its abettors, to watch for and prevent the introduction of the paper, and 
to punish as enemies to their country any one who should be instrumental in 
its circulation. "WHiile the more wealthy and influential citizens repudiated 
their princijjles, they were no less active in organizing a firm resistance by 
constitutional means. 

On the 5th of October, the ships having on board the stamps appeared in 
\dew of Philadelphia. All the vessels in the river immediately hoisted their 
colours half-mast high, the bells in the churches were muffled, and continued 
to toll until the evening. Although the Quakers and Episcopalians seemed 
inclined for peaceable submission, the mass of the people forcibly compelled 
Hughes, the stamp master, reluctantljA to resign his office. The paper having 
arrived at Boston on the 10th of September, Governor Bernard wrote to the 
assembly, to request their advice and assistance ; but they shrewdly declined 
to meddle with an affair beyond their functions, and the governor decided to 
deposit the stam^ps in the castle, and defend them, if needful, with artillery. 
But on the 1st of November, the day when the Act was to come into oj^er- 
ations, all the bells in Boston were tolled, and the same scenes which had 
before occurred there, were repeated mth increased violence. Oliver was 
dragged through the mob to the foot of Liberty tree, and made to swear anew 
to his renunciation of office, while papers with the signature " Vox populi," 
were affixed to the doors of the public offices, warning any who should dare 
to make use of the stamps to look to his house, his property, and his person. 
Still more daring were the^ proceedings at New York. There too the dis- 
tributor of stamps having resigned his employment, Vice-Governor Golden, 
who was very unpopular, deposited the stamps for safety in the fort. On 
the evening of the 1st of November, a furious mob proceeded to the citadel, 
and seized upon Colden's carriage, then hung him in effigy, with the Stamp 
Act in his hand, made a bonfire of the whole under the very gims of the 
citadel, and then proceeded to attack and pillage the house of ]\Iajor James. 
Encouraged by impunity, and stimulated by the cofiee-house oratory of the 
popular leaders, headed by one Captain Scars, they marched tumultuously to 
the vice-governor's, threatening the direst extremity unless the stamps were 
given up to them. To avoid bloodshed, and in the absence of the governor. 
Golden delivered up the obnoxious paper, which was immediately car- 
ried off by the populace. 

Next day a meeting took place of the more respectable inhabitants, for the 
purpose of forming a committee of correspondence with the other colonies, to 
keep alive the spirit of opposition to the government measure. Shortly after- 
wards a more important resolution was agreed upon. The merchants of New 
York resolved to import no more goods from England, until the revocation 
of the bill ; an example shortly afterwards followed by the majority in Phila- 



17G5.] DETERMINED SPIRIT OF THE COLONISTS. 291 

delphia and Boston. Some even went so far as to forbid any action to be 
brought against an American subject to recover debts due in England. The 
])eople, too, of all ranks and classes agreed to deny themselves the use of all 
foreign luxuries, and even necessaries, until they had obtained justice. Sheep 
were forbidden to be used as food, in order that their avooI might be ex- 
clusively used for domestic manufactures, and to appear in homespun Avas 
esteemed the mark of a true patriot. A society was formed at New York to 
promote the growth of domestic manufactures. By adopting such a policy they 
hoped to touch the English manufacturers to the quick, and compel them to 
agitate for the removal of the obnoxious bill. 

On the 1st of November, when the stamps were to have come into general 
use, not a single one was to be found in circulation ; all had been either de- 
stroyed, locked up, or sent back again to England by the royal governors, 
who found it impossible to carry the Act into execution. Tire greatest confu- 
sion prevailed through the provinces, and business was generally at a stand- 
still. The diary of John Adams, then rising into popularity at Boston, gives 
a most lively picture of the state of public feeling at this period. " The year 
1TG5," he observes, " has been the most remarkable year of my life. That 
enormous engine, fabricated by the British parliament, for battering down all 
the rights and liberties of America, I mean the Stamp Act, has raised and 
spread through the whole continent a spirit that will be recorded to our honour 
with all future generations. In every colony, from Georgia to New Hamp- 
shire inclusively, the stamp distributors and inspectors have been compelled 
by the unconquerable rage of the people to renounce their offices. Such and 
so universal has been the resentment of the people, that every man who has 
dared to speak in favour of the stamps, or to soften the detestation in which 
they are held, how great soever his abilities and virtues had been esteemed 
before, or whatever his fortune, connexions, and influence had been, has been 
seen to sink into universal contempt and ignominy. 

" The people, even to the lowest ranks, have become more attentive to 
their liberties, more inquisitive about them, and more determined to defend 
them, than they were ever before known or had occasion to be; innumerable 
have been the monuments of wit, humour, sense, learning, spirit, j^atriotism, 
and heroism, erected in the several colonies and provinces in the course of 
this year. Our presses have groaned, our pulpits have thundered, our legis- 
latures have resolved, our towns have voted; the crown officers have every 
where trembled, and all their little tools and creatures been afraid to speak 
and ashamed to be seen. I 

" This spirit, however, has not yet been sufficient to banish from persons in 
authority that timidity which they have discovered from the beginning. The 
executive courts have not yet dared to adjudge the Stamp Act void, nor to 
proceed with business as usual, though it should seem that necessity alone 
would be sufficient to justify business at present, though the Act should be 
allowed to be obligatory. The stamps are in the castle. Mr. Oliver has no 
commission. The governor has no authority to distribute or even to unpack 

2 p 2 



DIFFERENCE OF OPINION IN ENGLAND. [1765. 

the bales ; the Act has never been proclaimed nor read in the province ; yet 
the probate office is shut, the custom-house is shut, the courts of justice are 
shut, and all business seems at a stand. Yesterday and the day before, the 
two last days of service for January term, only one man asked me for a writ, 
and he was soon determined to wave his request. I have not drawn a writ 
since the first of November. 

" How long we are to remain in this languid condition, this passive obedi- 
ence to the Stamp Act, is not certain. But such a pause cannot be lasting. 
Debtors grow insolent ; creditors grow angry ; and it is to be expected that 
the public offices will very soon be forced open, imless such favourable ac- 
counts should be received from England as to draw away the fears of the 
great, or unless a greater dread of the multitude should drive away the fear 
of censure from Great Britain." 

In the midst of this universal excitement, the congress suggested by Massa- 
chusetts met at New York. Nine of the colonies sent deputies, and assur- 
ances of support were received from the others. Most of the men noAV 
assembled became afterwards famous in the annals of the coming revolution. 
During a session of three weeks, they drew up a '' Declaration of Rights and 
Grievances," recapitulating the arguments already advanced against taxation 
by a parliament where they were not represented, but, as though they feared 
they might be taken at their word and required to send deputies to England, 
they alleged the distance and other reasons as an argument for lodging the 
power of taxation exclusively in their own assemblies. Petitions to the king 
and houses of parliament were also prepared, filled with warm protestations of 
loyalty, and earnest entreaties for redress. These petitions, which were fully 
approved by the different colonial assemblies, were shortly afterwards sent 
over to England for j)resentation. 

The united and formidable ojjposition of all classes in the colonies to the 
recent Act, awakened in England, so soon as it was known, a general attention 
to American affairs, which had previously been regarded with great indiffer- 
ence. The merchants, whose interests were seriously compromised by the 
non-importation confederacy, were the first to blame the impolitic measure, 
which had entirely stopped the course of trade, and the table of the minister 
groaned under their petitions for its repeal. Pamphlets were continually ap- 
pearing, in which the subject was agitated, according to political or party dif- 
ferences. Some exalted the firmness of the Americans to the skies, while 
others accused them of ingratitude and rebellion. Some who affirmed the 
right of parliament to tax them, among whom were the bulk of the aristocracy 
and clergy, called for the adoption of force, Avhile the opj)osite party recom- 
mended the policy of forbearance and concession. Meanwhile the Grenville 
ministry, distinguished for its maintenance of the royal prerogative, had given 
place to a more liberal administration under the Marquis of Pockingham. 
The new ministry, overwhelmed by the petitions of the colonists and remon- 
strances of the merchants, adroitly endeavoured in their instructions to the 
royal governors in America, to luU the tempest awakened by their prede- 



1766.] DEBATE ON THE STAMP ACT. 293 

cessors, wliile they awaited the renewal of the session of parliament in order 
to obtain an entire reversal of their policy. Thus terminated the year 1765, 
as yet the most stormy and momentous in the colonial annals. 

Parliament met in the following January, when the speech from the throne 
brought the affairs of America formally before the house. His Majesty de- 
clared " his firm confidence in the wisdom and zeal of the members, which 
would, he doubted not, guide them to such sound and prudent resolutions as 
might tend at once to preserve the constitutional rights of the British legislature 
over the colonies, and to restore to them that harmony and tranquillity which 
had lately been interrupted by disorders of the most dangerous nature." The 
reports of the royal governors and other papers, together with a mass of peti- 
tions requesting the repeal of the Stamp Act, were then laid before the house. 
The motion for an address to the king was next warmly agitated, and the same 
differences of opinion on the subject which had before appeared were now 
more fully manifested, fortified by motives of party or personal animosity. 
The ex-ministers, now in opposition, were firm in the defence of their recent 
policy. But Pitt, who had neither formed part of the recent nor present ad- 
ministration, and whose ill health had for some time withdrawn him from any 
active share in politics, now appeared to turn the scale decisively in favour of 
its repeal. 

" It is a long time, Mr. Speaker," he said, " since I have attended in par- 
liament : when the resolution was taken in this house to tax America, I 
was ill in bed. If I could have endured to have been carried in my bed, so 
great was the agitation of my mind for the consequences, I would have soli- 
cited some kind hand to have laid me down on this floor to have borne my 
testimony against it. It is my opinion, that this kingdom has no right to lay 
a tax upon the colonies. At the same time, I assert the authority of this 
kingdom to be sovereign and supreme in every circumstance of government 
and legislature whatsoever. Taxation is no part of the governing or legisla- 
tive power ; and taxes are a voluntary gift and grant of the commons alone. 
The concurrence of the peers and of the crown is necessary only as a form of 
law. This house represents the commons of Great Britain. When in this 
house we give and grant, therefore, we give and grant Avhat is our own ; but 
can we give and grant the property of the commons of America ? It is an 
absurdity in terms. There is an idea in some, that the colonies are virtually 
represented in this house. I would fain know by whom ? The idea of vir- 
tual representation is the most contemptible that ever entered into the head of 
man ; it does not deserve a serious refutation. The commons in America, 
represented in their several assemblies, have invariably exercised this consti- 
tutional right of giving and granting their own money ; they would have been 
slaves if they had not enjoyed it. At the same time this kingdom has ever 
professed the j)OAver of legislature and commercial control. The colonies ac- 
knowledge your authority in all things, with the sole exception that you shall 
not take their money out of their pockets without their consent. Here would 
I diaw the line — quam ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum,''^ A pro- 



294 GEORGE GRENVILLE DEFENDS HIS MEASURES. [1766. 

found silence succeeded tlie address of Mr, Pitt ; no one aj)peared inclined 
to take the part of tlie late ministers. At length Mr, Grenville himself, the 
obstinate author of all the mischief which then so loudly threatened the peace 
and prosperity of the whole empire, rose in defence of the measures of his ad- 
ministration. " Protection and obedience," said the late minister, " are recipro- 
cal ; Great Britain protects America, America is therefore bound to yield obedi- 
ence. If not, tell me when Avere the Americans emancipated ? " Fixing his 
eye upon Pitt he exclaimed, " The seditious spirit of the colonies owes its birth 
to the factions in this house. Gentlemen are careless what they say, provided 
it serves the purposes of opposition. We were told we trod on tender ground, 
we were bid to expect disobedience : what is this but telling America to 
stand out against the law ? to encourage their obstinacy with the expectation 
of support here ? Ungrateful people of America ! The nation has run itself 
into an immense debt to give them protection ; bounties have been extended 
to them ; in their favour the Act of Navigation, that palladium of British 
commerce, has been relaxed ; and now that they are called upon to contribute 
a small share towards the public expense, they renounce your authoiity, in- 
sult your officers, and break out, I might almost say, into open rebellion." 

At this several members started suddenly to their feet, among whom was 
Pitt himself. There was a general cry of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Pitt, and all but he 
resumed their seats. Addressing himself to the speaker, he observed, " Sir, 
a charge is brought against gentlemen sitting in this house for giving birth to 
sedition in America. The freedom with Avhich they have spoken their senti- 
ments against this unhappy Act is imputed to them as a crime ; but the 
imputation shall not discourage me. It is a liberty which I hope no gentle- 
man will be afraid to exercise ; it is a liberty by which the gentleman "svho 
calumniates it might have profited. He ought to have desisted from his ]3ro- 
ject. We are told America is obstinate — America is almost in open rebellion. 
Sir, I rejoice America has resisted ; three millions of people so dead to all 
the feelings of liberty, as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been 
fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest. I came not here armed at all 
points with law cases and acts of parliament, with the statute book doubled 
down in dogsears, to defend the cause of liberty ; but for the defence of liberty 
upon a general constitutional principle, it is a ground on which I dare meet 
any man. I will not debate points of law; but what, after all, do the cases of 
Chester and Durham prove, but that imder the most arbitrary reigns parliament 
were ashamed of taxing a people without their consent, and allowed them 
representatives ? A higher and better example might have been taken from 
Wales ; that principality was never taxed by parliament till it was incorporated 
with England. We are told of many classes of persons in this kingdom not 
represented in parliament ; bul; are they not all virtually represented as English- 
men within the realm ? Have; they not the option, many of them at least, of 
becoming themselves electors? Every inhabitant of this kingdom is necessarily 
included in the general system of representation. It is a mififortiwe that more 
are not actually represented. The honourable gentleman boasts of his boimties 



17GG.] PITT TAKES PART WITH AMERICA, 295 

to America. Are not these bounties intended finally for the benefit of tliis 
kingdom ? If they are not, he has misapplied the national treasures. I am 
no courtier of America. I maintain that parliament has a right to bind, to 
restrain America. Our legislative poAver over the colonies is sovereign and 
supreme. The honourable gentleman tells us he understands not the differ- 
ence between internal and external taxation ; but surely there is a plain dis- 
tinction between taxes levied for the purpose of raising a revenue and duties 
imposed for the regulation of commerce. ' When,' said the honourable gen- 
tleman, ' were the colonies emancipated ? ' At what time say I, in answer, 
were they made slaves ? I speak from actual knowledge when I say that the 
profit to Great Britain from the trade of the colonies, through all its branches, 
is two millions per annum. This is the fund that carried you triumphantly 
through the war : this is the price America pays you for her protection ; and 
shall a miserable financier come 'with a boast that he can fetch a peppercorn 
into the exchequer at the loss of millions to the nation ? I knoAv the valour 
of your troops, I know the skill of your officers, I know the force of this 
country ; but in such a cause your success would be hazardous. America, if 
she fell, Avould fall like a strong man : she would embrace the pillars of the 
state, and pull down the constitution with her. Is this your boasted peace ? 
not to sheathe the sword in the scabbard, but to sheathe it in the bowels of 
your countrymen? The Americans have been wronged, they have been 
driven to madness by injustice. Will you punish them for the madness you 
have occasioned ? No, let this country be the first to resume its prudence 
and temper ; I will pledge myself for the colonies, that, on their part, animo- 
sity and resentment will cease. Upon the whole, I will beg leave to tell the 
house in a few words what is really my opinion. It is that the Stamp Act be 
repealed absolutely, totally, and immediately. At the same time let the 
sovereign authority of this country over the colonies be asserted in as strong 
terms as can be devised, and be made to extend to every point of legislation 
whatsoever ; that we may bind their trade, confine their manufactui"es, and 
exercise any poAver Avhatsoever, except that of taking their money out of 
their pockets without their consent." 

Grenville having vainly endeavoured to pledge the House to the enforce- 
ment of the Act, the policy to be pursued was anxiously investigated and dis- 
cussed. It was on this occasion that Franklin was summoned to give his evi- 
dence before the House of Commons. The galleries Avcre crowded with 
spectators eager to behold and listen to the remarkable stranger, so distin- 
guished both for his scientific discoveries and the services he had rendered to 
his country. His demeanour was simple and self-possessed as usual, and his 
replies to the questions proposed to him were clear, intelligent, and conclusive 
as to the impossibility of enforcing the tax. When asked whether he thought 
the people of America would submit to the Stamp duty if it was moderated, 
he answered emphatically, " No. never, unless compelled by force of arms.'* 
To the question, " What was the temper of America towards Great Britain, 
before the year 1763 ?" he replied, " The best in the world. They submitted 



296 THE HE PEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. [1766. 

willingly to the government of the crown, and paid, in their courts, obedience 
to acts of parliament, jSTumerous as the people are in the several old pro- 
vinces, they cost you nothing in forts, citadels, garrisons, or armies, to keep 
them in subjection. They Avere governed by this country at the expense 
only of a little pen, ink, and paper ; they were led by a thread. They had not 
only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain, — for its laws, its customs, and 
manners, — and even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased the com- 
merce. Natives of Britain were always treated with particular regard ; to be 
an Old England man was, of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a 
kind of rank among us!" — "And what is their temper now?" it was asked. 
" O, very much altered," he replied. " Did you ever hear the authority of 
parliament to make laws for America questioned till lately ? " " The authority 
of parliament," said he, " Avas allowed to be valid in all laws, except such as 
should lay internal taxes. It was never disputed in laying duties to regulate 
commerce." 'i'o the question, " Can you name any act of assembly, or public 
act of any of your governments, that luade such distinction ? " he replied, " I 
do not know that there was any; I tliink there was never an occasion to make 
such an act, till now that you have attempted to tax us ; that has occasioned 
resolutions of assembly, declaring the distinction, in which I think every 
assembly on the continent, and every member in every assembly, have been 
unanimous." 

General Conway, who from the first had opposed the imposition of the 
Stamp Act, now brought in a bill for its total repeal, which, after being warmly 
opposed by Grenville and the opposition, was put to the vote, and carried by 
a large majority. " During the debate," to use the language of Burke, who 
had lent the strength of his eloquence to the ministerial measure, " the trading 
interest of the empire crammed into the lobbies of the House of Commons 
with a trembling and anxious expectation, and waited almost to a winter's return 
of light, their fate from the resolution of the House. "When at length that had 
determined in their favour, and the doors thrown open showed their deliverer 
in the well-earned triumph of his important victory, from the whole of that 
grave multitude there arose an involuntary burst of gratitude and transj^ort. 
They jumped upon him like children on a long-absent father. They clung 
about him as captives about a redeemer All England joined in his 
applause." 

In repealing the Stamp Act the ministry, it should be observed, took no 
higher ground than that of the impolicy of maintaining it, and they carefully 
salved over the wounded honour of the country, by an act declaring " that the 
parliament had, and of right ought to have, power to bind the colonies in all 
cases whatsoever." AVhen .the repeal bill was sent up to the Lords, the highest 
legal authorities in the realm differed entirely upon the point at issue. Lord 
Mansfield maintaining that the sovereign power of parliament included the 
right of taxation, a doctrine which Lord Camden most strenuously denied. 
The king, it was understood, was in principle opposed to the repeal, but un- 
willing to risk the effusion of blood. Others of the peers, both temporal and 



17GG.] EFFECTS OF THE REPEAL IN AMERICA. 297 

spiritual, brcatlicd a spirit far more hostile, but finally tlie bill was carried by 
a majority of a third, and shortly afterwards the king Avent down to the House 
of Lords to give it his assent. On this occasion the American merchants 
crowded around to express their gratitude, the ships in the river were adorned 
with flags, the streets were illuminated, bonfires blazed, and every sign of 
public rejoicing hailed the renewal of their friendly relations with America, 
which had lately been so lamentably interrupted. 



CHAPTER VI. 



FROM THE REPEAL OP THE STAMP ACT TO THE PASSING OF THE BOSTON PORT BILL. 

TitE news of the repeal of the Stamp Act was received in the colonies with 
unbounded joy. At Boston the bells were immediately set ringing, cannon dis- 
charged, and the ships in the harbour adorned with flags and streamers. The 
sons of liberty gathered under their familiar tree, and commemorated the 
joyful event by drinking toasts and firing muskets. The debtors in the jails 
were set at liberty, there were splendid exhibitions of fireworks, and Han- 
cock and Otis, the popular leaders, kept open house for the citizens, and 
broached a cask of Madeira to regale the populace. In the other cities, and 
throughout the colonies, public thanksgivings were offered up in the churches 
for the restoration of harmony with England. The non-importation agree- 
ments were rescinded, the home-spun suits given to the poor, and the colonists 
again appeared in the silks and broadcloths of the parent country. Statues to 
the king were erected, and portraits of Lord Camden, Barre, and Conway 
adorned the public halls. But Pitt, above all, became the object of popular 
idola^"ry. Forgetful of his original intention to raise a revenue in America, 
and eA^cn of his recent reservation of the absolute power of parliament to re- 
gulate her commerce, his recent exertions in her cause were rewarded with 
enthusiastic gratitude. 

But as this first ebullition of rejoicing gradually died away, a reaction, 
broader and deeper than the first impulse of discontent, began to occupy 
its place. The recent agitation had accustomed all classes in America to the 
discussion of their rights, and rendered them increasingly susceptible of the 
slightest encroachment upon them. In the triumphant result of the recent 
struggle, they had found out the all-powerful effect of itvion and OfjHaiion. A 
popular party had been formed, embracing many of the most powerful minds 
in the colony, who, while they still used the language of loyalty, had adopted 

2 Q 



298 BERNARD'S DISPUTES WITH THE ASSEMBLY. [1706. 

views which, would have rendered them virtually, if not nominally, independ- 
ent of England. This was jjarticularly the case in Massachusetts, where 
Governor Bernard, who saw the turn affairs were taking, was determined 
to assert the supreme authority of the mother country, and had thus become 
personally obnoxious to the liberals. Where the materials of discord were so 
abundant, and where the officers of the crown and the leaders of the people 
maintained an attitude of determined antagonism, it could not be long before 
fresh subjects of dispute were forthcoming. 

In his circular to the royal governors. Secretary Conway informed them, 
" that the king and parliament seemed disposed to forgive and forget the 
marks of an undutiful disposition too firequent in the late transactions, but 
desired them to recommend to the assemblies, the propriety of making full 
and ample comjjensation to those who had suffered for their deference to the 
act of the British legislature." On submitting this message to the Massa- 
chusetts assembly, Bernard observed that " the justice and humanity of this 
requisition was incontrovertible, while the authority Avith which it was intro- 
duced should preclude all disputation about it." Neither this message itself, 
nor the terms in which it was administered, were very palatable to the as- 
sembly. They were aware that its execution would be highly unpopular, 
denying, as it tacitly did, the right of the colonists to agitate for the abolition 
of a tax which the government itself had seen fit to repeal. They fastened 
therefore upon the language of the governor, observing that it wa-s conceived 
in much higher and stronger terms than the letter of the secretary, and that if 
this recommendation, which his Excellency termed a requisition , be founded 
on so much justice and humanity that it could not be controverted, while the 
aiTthority with which it is introduced should preclude all disputation about 
complpng with it, — they should be glad to know what freedom they had in 
the case. It was not until after a protracted discussion that the indemnity 
was at length granted by the assembly ; but it displayed its real feeling on 
the subject, by coupling it wuth a general pardon, amnesty, and oblivion for the 
rioters ; and although this proviso, which gave the deepest offence to the king 
and ministry, was expressly disallowed by his Majesty as not being within 
the power of a colonial assembly to grant, the actors in the late disturb- 
ances remained unpunished. 

These political differences were greatly inflamed by personal jealousies and 
animosities. Among the leaders of the popular movement in jNIassachusetts, 
who now began to come prominently forward, were James Otis, Thomas 
Gushing, Samuel A dams, and John Hancock. The first of these patriots, it 
will be remembered, originally held a place under government, which he 
resigned in order to plead against the "writs of assistance," on which 
occasion his memorable speech had produced so thrilling an effect; and 
he was also the author of the pamphlet on colonial rights. Since that period 
he had continued the untiring and deadly antagonist of government. His 
character is thus sketched by the master-hand of John Adams : "He is fiery 
and feverous, his imagination flames, his passions blaze ; he is liable to great 



1767.] DEBATES OF THE ASSEMBLY MADE PUBLIC. 299 

inequalities of temper, sometimes in despondency, sometimes in a rage. The 
rashnesses and imprudences into which his excesses of zeal have formerly- 
transported him, have made him enemies, whose malicious watch over him 
occasions more caution, and more cunning, and more inexplicable passages in 
his conduct than formerly, and perhaps views at the chair or the board, or 
possibly more expanded views beyond the Atlantic, may mingle now with his 
patriotism." Gushing, descended from an ancient colonial family, is described 
as being " st&ady and constant, busy in the interest of liberty and the oppo- 
sition, and famed for secrecy and talent at procuring intelligence," Samuel 
Adams, of the old Puritan stock and serious temper, poor, but of incorruptible 
integrity, and proof against the seductive offer of a government place, con- 
sidered to possess " the most thorough understanding of liberty, and her 
resources in the temper and character of the people, though not in the la-w- 
and constitution, was gradually acquiring influence among the masses. Of 
the mercantile class, Bowdoin and Hancock were the chief leaders. The 
former, of French origin, possessed the largest fortune in Boston ; the latter, 
whose father and grandfather had been in the ministry, had also acquired great 
wealth, and was active, lively, and prepossessing in his manners. To these 
we may add, John Adams himself, a young lawyer of rising reputation and 
high character, afterwards president of the United States, and now becoming 
so influential among the liberals, that the government offered, and even press- 
ed on him, notwithstanding his known political principles, the place of Advo- 
cate-general, in the court of Admiralty, but which, having determined to cast in 
his lot with the popular party, he had decidedly refused to accept. The great 
majority, it should be observed, of those v/ho stood at the head of the bar, 
still either ranged themselves on the side of government, or contrived at 
least to observe a prudent neutrality. 

The assembly having chosen Otis as president. Governor Bernard re- 
fused to ratify a choice so unpleasant to himself and so opposed to the interests 
of the ministry. Otis in retaliation exerted himself successfully to get Hutchin- 
son and Oliver excluded from the council, in consequence of which the 
governor refused to second the nomination of the other members of their 
choice. The popular party hereupon became more stirring and energetic, and 
a step Avas noAv taken by them that tended materially to silence the friends 
of government, to compel the neutral to a choice of sides, and to stimulate the 
activity of the friends of the people. Hitherto the debates of the assembly 
had been carried on with closed doors ; they were now, through a decree ob- 
tained by the popular leaders, thrown open to the public, for whose accom- 
modation galleries were erected, so that they might see at once who were 
their friends or enemies. 

While affairs in Massachusetts thus became more and more threatening, 
Kew York was also involving herself in further disputes with the ministry. 
An indemnity had been indeed voted for the loyalist sufferers in the recent 
riots, from the benefit of which, however, the vice-governor had been 
formally excluded, in consequence of his hostihty to the people. The go- 

2 Q 2 



300 DUTIES LEVIED ON TEA AND OTHER IMPORTS. [1767. 

vcrnor, expecting shortly tlie arrival of a body of troops under General Gage, 
conformably to an Act jjassed by parliament at the same time as the Stamp Act 
for quartering troops in the colonies, sent a message to the assembly requiring 
them to make the necessary provision. This however, to the full extent re- 
quired, they refused to do, and thus assumed an attitude of determined resist- 
ance towards the government. 

INIcanwhile another change had taken place in the British ministry. The 
Eockingham administration came to an end in July, 1766, and a new ministry 
was formed under the nominal leadership of Pitt, now created Earl of Chatham, 
who was however prevented by illness fi-om taking part in the measures. 
Lord Shelburn and General Conway became secretaries of state ; Camden, 
lord chancellor ; Charles ToAvnsend, chancellor of the Exchequer. This ad- 
ministration Avas of so chequered a character that it was described by Burke 
as " a piece of diversified Mosaic, a tesselated pavement without cement, here 
a bit of black stone, there a bit of white, patriots and courtiers, king's friends 
and republicans, "Whigs and Tories, treacherous friends and open enemies, — 
a very curious show, but utterly unsafe to touch, and unsure to stand upon." 
The contumacy of the colonists greatly annoyed the king and ministry as well 
as the people at large, and it became the general impression, fortified by the 
representations of the colonial governors, and especially of Bernard, that greater 
firmness must De displayed in futiu'e. Grenville in particular, the author of 
the Stamp Act, by continually appealing to the pride of the ministry, seems to 
have been the chief agent in inducing them to impose a fresh tax upon the 
colonists. Declaiming, it is said, as usual on American afiairs, he addressed 
himself particularly to the ministers. " You are cowards," he said, " you are 
afraid of the Americans, you dare not tax America." This he repeated in 
dififerent language. Upon this Townsend took fire, immediately rose, and said, 
*' Fear — fear — cowards — dare not tax America ! I dare tax America." Grenville 
stood silent for a moment, and then said, " Dare you tax America ? I wish to 
God I could see it." Townsend, indeed a man of brilliant abilities, was versa- 
tile, excitable, and inconsistent. He had warmly sujiported Grenville in passing 
the Stamp Act, and as warmly voted for its repeal, doubtless, it should be 
remembered, upon grounds of expediency alone. He now devised a new 
scheme, upon the ingenuity of which he congratulated himself, for raising a 
revenue in America without offending the feelings of the colonists, who, while 
they denied the right of parliament to impose upon them a direct Internal 
tax, such as that upon stamps, had hitherto at least acquiesced in her right to 
levy external duties for the regulation of commerce. He brought in a biU 
for imposing a duty upon teas InijDorted into America, together with paints, 
paper, glass, and lead, which were articles of British produce ; its alleged 
object being to raise a revenue for the support of the civil government, for 
the expense of a standing army, and for giving permanent salaries to the 
royal governors, with a view to render them independent of the colonial* 
assemblies. In order to enforce the new Act and those already in existence," 
which, odious as they were to the Americans, had hitherto been continually 



I 



1767.] RENEWAL OF THE EXCITEMENT IN A3IERICA. 301 

evaded by them, a B'oard of Revenue Commissioners was to be establislied at 
Boston. Indignant, moreover, at the recent refusal of the New York assem- 
bly to comply with the provisions of the Act for quartering soldiers, notwith- 
standing their personal remonstrances, the ministers passed an Act restraining 
that body from any further legislative proceedings until they had submitted. 

These Acts, passed at home almost without opposition, arrived in America 
about the same time, and immediately rekindled the agitation, which, lulled 
for a moment by the repeal of the Stamp Act, now broke out more vigor- 
ously than ever. As indeed the tax upon tea, being distinctly external, 
differed entirely from that upon stamps, being in fact of the same nature as 
those upon molasses and other articles to which a reluctant submission had 
hitherto been afforded, it is possible that, under other circumstances, it might 
have passed into operation without exciting any great commotion. But the 
object for which it was levied tended to create a general odium in the minds 
of the colonists, excited as they were by jealous apprehensions of parliamen- 
tary encroachment. It was not only to raise a revenue from the colonies, but 
that revenue was moreover to be applied in strengthening the royal power, in 
enforcing the detested Acts of Trade, in rendering the governors independent, 
and in crushing resistance by the establishment of a standing army. Every day 
therefore the feeling of attachment to England grew weaker, and the desire 
for independence stronger. The nature of the connexion between the mother 
country and the colonies was the constant subject of discussion, and wliile the 
authority of England was reduced to a mere nullity, the pretensions of the 
Americans were gradually expanded, until the interference of parliament Avith 
the affairs of the colonies in any shape, and in any way, was boldly and em- 
phatically denied. Thus, as in the English parliament Grcnville had denied 
the distinction between internal and external taxes, formerly so streniiously 
insisted on by the colonists, as fallacious, and thereon founded his argument 
for imposing the Stamp Act, so noAV, that tax being repealed, the Americans 
made use of the identical argument for refusing to submit to any other. 

This view of the subject was warmly advocated in a series of " Letters from 
a Earmer in Pennsylvania to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies," written by 
John Dickenson, in which the right of parliamentary taxation in any shape 
whatever was strenuously denied. Franklin, who at first had inclined to the 
difference between external and internal taxation, now altered his opinion, and 
caused the " Letters " to be reprinted in London. Warmly advocated by the 
colonial press, these views took possession of the minds of the people ; and thus 
the qiiestion between the contending parties, removed from its original ground, 
became increasingly difficult of solution. 

On the receipt of the new Acts, Governor Bernard had been solicited to call a 
special session of the general court to examine and discuss them ; a request 
with which he had refused to comply. When the court met two months 
afterwards, a committee was ajipointcd to take into consideration the state of 
affairs. They drew iip a humble petition to the king, in which they dwell 
upon the grant of their original charter, "with the conditions of which they had 



303 THE COLONISTS' PETITION TO THE KING. [17G7. 

fully complied, till in an unhappy time it was vacated." They next allude to 
tlie subsequent and modified charter, granted by William and Mary, con- 
firming the same fundamental liberties granted them by the first. Acknow- 
ledging indeed the superintending authority of parliament, in all cases that 
can consist uith t lie fundamental rights of nature and the constitution, they 
proceed as follows : '' It is with the deepest concern that your humble suppli- 
ants would represent to your Majesty, that your parliament, the rectitude of 
whose intentions is never to be questioned, has thought proper to pass divers 
Acts imposing taxes on your subjects in America with the sole and express 
purpose of raising a revenue. If yoiu- Majesty's subjects here shall be de- 
prived of the honour and jii'ivilege of voluntarily contributing their aid to 
your Majesty, in supporting your government and authority in the province, 
and defending and securing your rights and territories in America, which 
they have always hitherto done with the utmost cheerfulness ; if these acts of 
parliament shall remain in force, and your Majesty's Commons in Great Bri- 
tain shall continue to exercise the power of granting the property of their 
fellow subjects in this province, your people must then regret their unhappy 
fate ir having only the name left of free subjects. "With all humility we 
conceive that a representation of this province in parliament, considering their 
local circumstances, is utterly impracticable. Your Majesty has therefore been 
graciously 2:)leased to order your requisitions to be laid before the repre- 
sentatives of your people in the general assembly, who have never failed to 
afford the necessary aid, to the extent of their ability, and sometimes beyond 
it, and it would be ever grievous to your INIajesty's faithful subjects, to be 
called upon in a way that should appear to them to imply a distrust of their 
most ready and willing compliance." Besides this petition to the king, they 
sent letters of instructions to their agents, and also to Lords Shelburne, Con- 
way, Cam.den, Chatham, and other advocates of their cause. They adopted, 
moreover, a measure, the efficacy of which had been already tested, that of 
despatching a circular to the rest of the colonies, to engage them in a common 
resistance, concluding it with an expression of their "firm confidence in the 
king, their common head and father, that the united and dutiful supplications 
of his distressed American subjects will meet with his royal and favourable 
acceptance." 

No step could have given greater uneasiness or offence than this to the 
English ministry, who dreaded the union of the scattered States, and the 
gradual establishment of a colonial congress, as earnestly as those measures 
became the desire of the patriot party. Accordingly Lord Hillsborough, re- 
cently appointed to the new secretaryship of the colonies, desired Governor 
Bernard to press upon the House of Representatives the jiropriety of rescind- 
ing this resolution as " rash and hasty," and artfully procured by surprise 
against the general sense of the assembly, and to dissolve that body in case of 
refusal. He also addressed a circular with the same instructions to the rest 
of the royal governors. " As his Majesty considers this measure," it observed, 
" to be of the most dangerous and factious tendency, calculated to inflame the 



17G8.] ATTEMPT TO ENFORCE THE DUTIES. 303 

minds of his good subjects in the colonies, and promote an unwarrantable 
combination, it is his Majesty's pleasure that you sliould exert your utmost 
influence to defeat this flagitious attempt to disturb the public peace, by pre- 
vailing upon the assembly of your province to take no notice of it, whicli will 
be treating it with the contempt it deserves." ^Vlien Bernard communicated 
this message to the new assembly, they denied that the circular to the colonies 
had been unfairly passed, and flatly refused to comply with the ministerial 
suggestion. " If," they observed, "by the word rescinding is intended the 
passing a vote in direct and express disapprobation of the measure taken by 
the former house, we must take the liberty to declare that we take it to be the 
native right of the subject to petition the king for the redress of grievances. If 
the votes of the house are to be controlled by the direction of a minister, we 
have left us but a vain semblance of liberty. We have now only to inform 
you that this house have voted iwt to rescind, and that on a division on the 
question there were ninety-two nays and seventeen yeas." 

Otis made a speech characterized by his usual vehemence and daring, which 
was pronounced by the friends of government to be " the most violent, in- 
solent, abusive, and treasonable declaration, that perhaps was ever delivered." 
*' When Lord Hillsborough," he said, " knows that we will not rescind our 
Acts, he should, apply to parliament to rescind theirs. Let Britons rescind 
their measures, or they are lost for ever." The next day the House of Re- 
presentatives was dissolved by Bernard. His administration had become so 
odious, that a committee was ajDpointed to draw up a list of accusations against 
him, and to entreat his removal from the province. Equally vain were the 
attempts of the royal governors to obtain a jDromise from the assemblies of the 
other colonies not to unite with that of Massachusetts, whose sentiments, on 
the contrary, they unanimously echoed. They refused one and all, and were 
dissolved accordingly. 

Not only were the ministerial requisitions set at nought, but it soon became 
evident that the recent Acts could never be carried into effect in defiance of 
the popular feeling. How hateful the custom-house oflicers had ever been 
in America, the difficulty and even danger with which the discharge of their 
functions was attended, as well as the systematic evasion of the duties, has 
been already mentioned. The presence therefore of the recently ap]3ointed 
commissioners of customs, animated by the determination to enforce these laws^ 
could not fail to give rise to fresh commotions. Soon after their arrival the 
sloop " Liberty," laden with wines, was boarded and seized by them, and the 
oflicers, in the apprehension of a rescue, solicited aid from the captain of a 
ship of war in the harbour, who ordered the sloop to be cut from her fasten- 
ings and brought under the guns of his ship. This proceeding was greatly 
resented, especially as the sloop belonged to John Hancock, conspicuous, as 
before said, among the popular leaders. A mob collected, the custom-house 
officers, after being severely handled, narrowly escaped with their lives, and 
fled for refuge, first to the ship of war and afterwards to the castle, while their 
houses were attacked, and their boat dragged through the town, and afterwards 



304 ENGLISH TR OPS A RRI VE AT B OSTOK [1768. 

burned upon the common. The council, while' they admitted the criminality 
of the rioters, and recommended that they should be prosecuted, sought to 
extenuate their offence on the ground of the extraordinary proceedings of the 
custom-house officers, and as witnesses refused to come forward, the prosecu- 
tion fell to the ground. 

At the suggestion of the friends of government, who plainly perceived the 
impossibility of carrying out the obnoxious laws except by force, tAvo regi- 
ments had already been ordered to Boston, to which two others were now 
added. On learning this, a to-\ATi meeting was called, which, having in vain 
requested the governor to summon a general court, took the bold step of 
summoning a convention of delegates from the different towTis in the province, 
which, while they renounced legislative pretensions, should deliberate on 
the redress of grievances. A day of fasting and prayer was also appointed ; 
and here it may be well to observe, that the majority of the congregational 
ministers, who had looked with an evil eye on a recent attempt to establish 
Episcopacy in the province, warmly espoused the popular cause. Still more 
— on the pretence of apprehensions of " a war with France," all parties not 
already provided with fire-arms were advised to procure them at once. The 
summons was warmly responded to, delegates from more than a hundred towns 
assembled on the appointed day, and petitioned the governor to convene a 
general court. Bernard refused, and denounced the meeting as treasonable. 
Giving expression to their hatred of standing armies and declaring their 
readiness themselves to maintain the peace, after warm professions of loyalty, 
the delegates dispersed about the end of September, spreading through every 
part of the country the same spirit already so rife in Boston. 

The very day after they broke up their session the ships bearing two of 
the regiments arrived, and the governor requested the council to appoint 
them quarters in the town, as General Gage required him to do. The council 
replied, that there was already room in the barracks ; to which Bernard replied, 
that they were reserved for the two other regiments that w^ere shortly ex- 
pected. There was a large building belonging to the province, and then 
occupied by some poor families, which the governor suggested might be 
cleared for the soldiers ; but the council, averring that by the terms of the Act 
the provision of quarters devolved on the local magistrates, refused to- inter- 
fere. Some fears being even entertained that the inhabitants would oppose a 
landing, the guns of the ships were pointed on the town, and under 
their cover the troops were set ashore, and with muskets charged, bayonets 
fixed, and a train of artillery, they marched into the town. The overseers of 
Boston refused to appoint them quarters, but a temporary shelter was 
afforded to one regiment in Fancuil Hall, while the other pitched their tents 
on the common. Next morning the governor ordered a portion to occupy 
the State-house, with the exception of the council-chamber alone, the main 
guard with two field-pieces being stationed at the front. It was the sabbath 
day, and such a one as had never before been known in Boston. The place 
looked like a town in a state of siege. All the public buildings were filled 



17G8, G9.] LORD BOTETO URT DI8S0L YES THE ASSEMBLY. 305 

with soUicrs, parties of wliom were constantly marching to and fro to relieve 
guard. The peaceful citizens were challenged by sentinels as they passed to 
church, and the p^lblic exercises of devotion, so strictly and solemnly ob- 
served, interrupted by the roll of drums, and the thrilling sounds of military 
music. A spectacle so galling had never been witnessed by the colonists ; with 
indignation they felt, even to the lowest depth of their hearts, the bitterness of 
their dependence upon a distant power. 

On the opening of parliament, the papers connected with the late proceed- 
ings at Boston were laid before the House of Lords, who, already strongly 
prejudiced against the colonists, now passed resolutions declaring that the 
election of deputies to sit in convention, and the meeting of that convention, 
were daring insults to his Majesty's authority, and audacious usurpations of 
the power of government. They gave the ministers the strongest assurance of 
support, and suggested that the governor of Massachusetts should be directed 
to procure the fullest information touching all treasons or misprisions of 
treason committed there since Dec, 1767, and transmit the ringleaders to 
England for trial, under an obsolete statute of the reign of King Henry VIII. 
These resolutions sent down to the Commons, occasioned a vigorous opposition, 
but so deeply were parliament and the entire nation offended by the behavi-/ 
our of the Americans that they passed by a large majority, and were em/ 
bodied in a j-oint address to the king, 

"When the news of these proceedings reached America, Massachusetts pos- 
sessed no general assembly, but that of Virginia immediately took up their 
discussion with their wonted spirit, and immediately drew up several resolu- 
tions, which their speaker was directed to forward for concurrence to the rest 
of the colonial assemblies. In defence of the proceedings in ]\Iassachusetts, 
and in deprecation of the ministerial threats, they declared that "the sole right 
of imposing taxes on the inhabitants of this colony is now and ever hath been 
legally and constitutionally vested in the house of burgesses, with consent of 
the council, governor, and king ; that it is the privilege of the ' inhabitants to 
petition their sovereign for the redress of grievances, and lawful to procure 
the concurrence of the other colonies to this end ; that all trials for tre?\son, or 
misprision of treason, ought to be before his Majesty's courts in the colonies ;. 
and that the seizing any citizen suspected merely of any crime is a derogation 
from the rights of British subjects, as thereby the inestimable privilege of 
being tried by a jury from the vicinage, as well as the liberty of producing 
witnesses on such trial, will be taken away from the party accused." Althougli 
this decided protest was, as usually the case, accompanied by a loyal address 
to the king, on the following day. Lord Botetourt, then governor of Virginia, 
suddenly appearing in the midst of the assembly, abruptly put an end to its 
session, in these Avords : " Mr. Speaker, and Gentlemen of the House of 
Burgesses, 1 have heard of your resolves, and augur ill of their effects. You 
have made it my duty to dissolve you, and you are dissolved accordingly." 
The indignant members immediately adjourned to a tavern, and choosing 
Peyton Eandolph, their late speaker, as chairman, adopted strong resolutions 

2 R 



300 BEFUSAL TO PROVIDE FOR THE TROOPS. [1769. 

against the importation of British goods ; an example speedily followed by the 
rest of the colonies, Avhich were animated by the same determined s^^irit. 

The troops still continued to occupy Boston, where the poj^ular exasperation 
was every day increasing. The first thing done by the general court, upon its 
assembling in May, was to address a spirited remonstrance on this subject to 
the governor, declaring that an armament by land and sea, and a military 
guard with cannon pointed at the very door of the state-house, were incon- 
sistent with that dignity and freedom with which their deliberations could 
alone be carried on, and they consequently expected that his Excellency M'ould, 
as the king's representative, give orders for the removal of the forces during 
the session of the assembly. The governor curtly declared in reply, that he 
had no authority whatever over the ships in the harbour, or the troops Avithin 
the town. The assembly declared their intention of suspending all business, 
and of voting no supplies, until their petitions were attended to : the governor, 
complaining of their conduct as a waste of time and money, adjourned them to 
the neighbouring village of Cambridge. Thither, on the 6th of July, he for- 
warded to them an account of the expenditure already incurred by quartering 
the troops, requiring them, according to the Act of Parliament, not only to 
liquidate the outstanding debt, but also to make provision for the continued ac- 
commodation of the soldiers. Exasperated to the highest pitch, the assembly 
passed a resolution that the " general discontent on account of the E-evenue 
Acts, the expectation of a sudden arrival of a military j)ower to enforce them, 
an apprehension of the troops being quartered upon the inhabitants, and the 
general court dissolved, the governor refusing to call a new one, and the 
people reduced almost to a state of despair, rendered it highly expedient and 
necessary for the people to convene by their committees, to associate and con- 
sult upon the best means to promote peace and good order, to present their 
united complaints to the throne, and pray for the royal interposition in favour 
of their violated rights ; nor can this proceeding possibly be illegal, as they 
expressly disclaim all governmental acts. That the establishment of a standing 
army in the colony in time of peace is an invasion of their natural rights ; that 
a standing army is no part of the British constitution ; and that to send an 
armed force among them under pretence of assisting the civil authority is 
highly dangerous to the people, and both unprecedented and unconstitutional. 
The governor calling upon them to declare decidedly whether they would 
or not make provision for the troops, they boldly spoke out as folio w> : " Of 
all the new regulations, the Stamp Act not excepted, this under consideration 
is most excessively unreasonable. Yoirr Excellency must therefore excuse us 
in this express declaration, that as we cannot consisttently with our honour and 
interest, much less with the duty we owe to our constituents, so we never will 
make provision for the pvirposes in your several messages above mentioned." 
Bernard, upon this, prorogued the assembly until the 10th of January, ap- 
pointing them to meet at Boston. 

"While these stormy proceedings were going on, the ministry at home, con- 
vinced that the maintenance of the obnoxious duties, and also of a standing army 



17G9.] THE NOX-IMPORTATION AGREEMENTS. 307 

in America, was not only an impolitic measure, but also a seriously losing 
concern, the Earl of Hillsborough, addressed a circular to the governors, the 
publication of which was expected to allay the general perturbation. While 
strenuously asserting the legislative authority of Great Britain, he added as a 
salvo, that he " could take upon himself to assure them that, notwithstanding 
insinuations to the contrary from men with factious and seditious views, his 
Majesty's administration never entertained an idea of proposing further taxes 
upon America for the purpose of raising a revenue ; and that it was their in- 
tention, the next session of parliament, to take off the duties upon glass, paper, 
and colours, all of them British goods, such duties having been laid contrary 
to the true principles of commerce." Conway, the stanch friend of the colonists, 
declared in the house, that " if he understood the language of common sense, 
here was the strongest renunciation of the right of taxation." Such was not, 
however, the real intention of the English ministry ; while desirous of concili- 
ation, they still maintained the tax on tea, thus reserving the question at issue, 
and it was in this light that their conduct was regarded by the Americans. 
Accordingly, so far from relaxing their opposition, the latter continued the 
business of agitation with the greater spirit, as perceiving clearly that it was to 
this alone they were indebted for every concession extorted from the ministry, 
and to this alone they must look in carrying the point they were contending 
for. A meeting of the trading classes took place in Boston, at which it was 
declared that the repeal of only a part of the Act was an insidious measure, 
intended to give relief to the manufacturers in Great Britain, and to prevent 
the colonists from setting up manufactories for themselves, and therefore, so 
long as the revenue laws remained unrepealed, no further importations, with 
the exception of certain articles, should be made from England. A committee 
was ajipointed to obtain a written pledge from the inhabitants, not to make 
any purchases from such as should infringe this rule, to inspect the cargoes 
of vessels, and to publish the names of all importers unless they immediately 
delivered their goods into the hands appointed to receive them. These regu- 
lations, carried out in the other colonies, savour slightly of an arbitrary and 
inquisitorial character, and many were terrified into a compliance with them 
by the dread of popular odium. Party spirit rose every day higher and bit- 
terer, and the same nicknames of Whig and Tory, by which the two great 
parties in England were designated, were applied with equal acrimony on the 
other side of the Atlantic. 

In the midst of this scene of agitation. Governor Bernard proposed to leave 
Massachusetts, having, as he had some time previously informed the house, 
been summoned to England to lay the condition of the province before his 
Majesty. The firmness, not to say severity, with which he had maintained his 
administration, had rendered him generally unpopular, and this unpopularity 
had been greatly increased through the feuds that had arisen between himself 
and the leading agitators, whose factious encroachments, as he deemed them, 
he had steadily resisted in the colony, and denounced in his private letters to 
government, copies of which had been surreptitiously obtained and circulated. 

2 B 2 



808 GOVERNOR BERNARD LEAVES AMERICA. [17G9, 

The assembly unanimously voted a petition to tlie king tliat he might be for 
ever removed from the government of the j^rovince. There can be no doubt that 
his administration precipitated a collision between England and her colonies, 
but we can hardly lay upon him as a fault, what was in reality attributable to 
the position in which he stood. Believing as he did that England had a right 
to tax the colonies, it was his duty as a royal governor to maintain that right at 
all events. Aware of the wide-spread spirit of disaffection and of the manoeu- 
■\Tes of the popular leaders, the ultimate tendency of whose proceedings he 
foresaw better than perhaps they did themselves, he cannot be blamed for coun- 
selling the adoj)tion of decided measures of repression. But these very con- 
siderations, which must form his excuse to posterity, rendered him peculiarly 
odious to the colonists. Leaving the administration in the hands of Lieu- 
tenant-Governor Hutchinson, whose unj)opularity was hardly less than liis 
c^Ti, he embarked on board a man of war appointed to convey him to Eng- 
land, to the infinite satisfaction of the people. To grace his departure, the. 
bells were rung, salvos of artillery were fired from Hancock's wharf, " liberty 
tree " was adorned with flags, and at night a great bonfire was made upon 
Fort Hill. Not long after his departure an indictment was . proved against 
him for libel, in writing slanderous letters to the govermiient concerning the 
inhabitants of the province. The king however, appreciating his zealous 
services, indemnified him for these vexations by creating him a barcnet. 

The non-importation agreements were vigorously resumed tlii'oughout the 
colonies, and in carrying them out the women rendered themselves con- 
spicuous for their self-denial and patriotic zeal. At Newport, in Rhode Island, 
at an afternoon meeting of ladies, it Avas resolved that those who could spin 
should be employed in that way, and that those ayIio could not should sew. 
When the tea-time arrived, both tea and hyperion, an imitation composed of 
raspberry leaves, were handed round, when all the ladies displayed their 
patriotism by preferring the latter. At Boston, a party of fifty young ladies, 
calling themselves " Daughters of Liberty," met at the house of their pastor, 
and employed themselves in spinning yarn for the poor. Numerous spec- 
tators came in, refreshments were provided, and tunes, anthems, and liberty 
songs were chanted, the " sons of liberty " joining in chorus. This was an 
earnest of the spirit displayed by the American women throughout the revo- 
lution, during which the trials and pi'ivations they unclerAvent, and the hero- 
ism with which they endured them, have formed the subject of many a ro- 
mantic narrative. 

A few merchants, disregarding the piiblic feeling, still continued to vend 
the obnoxious article. A mob of boys, probably at the instigation of their 
elders, raised a rude wooden head with a finger pointed like a sign post, 
opposite to the establishment of an individual named Lillie. One of his 
friends endeavouring to pull it down, the mob pelted him with stones into 
Lillie's house, whence, in a state of exasj^eration, he fired a loaded musket into 
the midst of the crowd, thus killing one boy and wounding another. He was 
instantly dragged off to prison, and afterwards condemned for murder, but 



1T70.] THE PEOPLE RISE AGAIXST THE SOLDIERS. 309 

the sentence was never executed. The boy's corpse was enclosed in a coffin, 
inscribed, "Innocence itself is not safe," and carried to "liberty tree," 
whence several bundi-ed school-boys and a host of the inhabitants conducted 
it to its final resting-place. The newspapers and popular orators took up the 
topic, and the unfortunate lad was regarded as the first victim to the cause of 
American liberty. 

The presence of the troops in the town of Boston, notwithstanding the 
efforts of the commandant to mitigate the show of military occupation, was a 
source of perpetual irritation. The soldiers were detested by the people, 
whom they in their turn abhorred as rebels to the king. A certain party, 
practising on the public feeling, used every art to provoke a collision with 
the soldiers ; libels were published in the newspapers, and a mob of men made 
it a constant practice to insult them. A ropemaker having maltreated one of 
the soldiers, the latter fetched a body of his comrades, and a fight took place 
in which the soldiers came off" second best. The soldiers returning to the 
barracks fetched a body of their comrades, who in their turn beat the rope- 
makers, which greatly irritated the populace, and determined them to have their 
revenge. On the evening of Maych 5, a mob of several hundred armed with 
clubs assembled, threatening destruction to the soldiers, exclaiming, " Let us 
drive out these rascals, they have no business here — drive them out." The 
soldiers, threatened and insulted, were with difficulty restrained from march- 
ing out and attacking the mob. The confusion became fearful, the mob con- 
tinuing to shout, " Down with the bloody-backs," and tearing up the market 
stalls — the alarm bells rung — the cry of Fire, fire, re-echoed through the streets. 
Some leading citizens were endeavouring to induce the mob to disperse, when 
a tall man, in a red cloak and white wig, commenced a violent harangue, con- 
cluding with the shout " To the main guard, to the main guard," — re-echoed 
with fearfid energy by the infuriated mob. As they passed the custom-house, 
a boy exclaimed, pointing to the sentinel — " That's the scoundrel that knocked 
me down." " Let us knock him down, the bloody-back," was the reply ; and the 
soldier was instantly assailed with lumps of ice and other missiles. Alarmed 
for his life, he cried to the main guard for assistance, and a picket of eight 
men with unloaded muskets was despatched by Captain Preston to his relief. 
At this sight the fury of the mob increased to the highest pitch, they received 
the soldiers with a torrent of abusive epithets, and pelted them with stones 
covered with snow, dared them to fire, and completely surrounding them, 
pressed up to the very point of their bayonets. The soldiers loaded their 
muskets, but one Attucks, a powerful mulatto, at the head of a body of sailors, 
urged on the mob to exterminate the handful of military, and struck upon the 
bayonets with their clubs. "Come on," he exclaimed, "don't be afraid of 
them — they dare not fire — knock 'em over, kill 'em." Captain Preston com- 
ing up at this moment was received by Attucks with a violent blow. The 
Captain parried it with his arm, but it knocked the bayonet out of one of the 
soldier's hands, which was instantly seized by Attucks, and a struggle took 
place, in the midst of which some of those behind called out, " AVhy don't 



310 THE PEOPLE QUIETED BY HUTCIIIXSON. [1770. 

you fire, wliy don't you fire ? " whereupon tlie soldier, suddenly springing to liis 
legs, shot Attucks dead upon the spot. Five other soldiers immediately fired, 
when three men were killed, five seriously wounded, and a few others 
slightly hurt. The mob fell back awhile, and carried off the dead and 
wounded. The tumidt became fearful, at ten o'clock the alarm bell began to 
toll, and drums to beat; the cry was, '^ Tlie soldiers are risen" and thousands 
of citizens flew to arms in all directions. Some people ran hastily to summon 
the lieutenant-governor, who hurried to the spot, and reproached Preston with 
firing on the people without an order from the magistrates. " To the to^wn- 
house, the town-house," exclaimed some, fearful for the personal safety of 
Hutchinson, who, such was the pressure of the mob, was fairly driven before 
it up the stairs into the council-chamber. Here a demand was made of him 
that he would order the troops to retire to their barracks, which he refused to 
do, but stepping forth to the balcony, assured the people of his great concern 
at the unhappy event, that a rigorous inquiry about it should take place, and 
entreated them to retire to their homes. Upon this there was a cry of " Home, 
home," and the greater part separated peaceably. The troops returned to the 
barracks. A warrant was then issued against Preston, who surrendering himself, 
was committed to prison to take his trial, together with several of the soldiers. 

On this eventful evening, John Adams had been spending the evening at 
Mr. Henderson Inches's house, at the south end of Boston, in the society of a 
friendly club. " About nine o'clock," he says in his journal, " we were 
alarmed with the ringing of bells, and, supposing it to be the signal of fire, 
we snatched our hats and cloaks, broke up the club, and went out to assist 
in quenching the fire, or aiding our friends who might be in danger. In the 
street we were informed that the British soldiers had fired on the inhabitants, 
killed some and wounded others, near the town-house. A crowd of jjeople 
was flowing down the street to the scene of action. When we arrived, we 
saw nothing but some field-pieces, placed before the south door of the town- 
house, and some engineers and grenadiers drawn up to protect them. Having 
surveyed round the town-house, and seeing all quiet, I walked doAvn Boylston 
Alley into Brattle Square, where a company or tAvo of regular soldiers were 
drawn up in front of Dr. Cooper's old church, with their muskets all should- 
ered, and their bayonets all fixed. I had no other way to proceed but along 
the Avhole front in a very narrow space which they had left for foot passen- 
gers. Pursuing my way, without taking the least notice of them, or they of 
me, any more than if they had been marble statues, I went directly home 
to Cole Lane. 

" ]\Iy wife having heard that the town was still, and likely to continue so, 
had recovered from her first apprehensions, and we had nothing but our re- 
flections to interrupt our repose. These reflections were to me disquieting 
enough. Endeavours had been systematically pursued for many months, by 
certain busy characters, to excite quarrels, rencounters, and combats, single 
or compound, in the night, between the inhabitants of the lower class and 
the soldiers, and at all risks to enkindle an immortal hatred betAveen them. 



ir:0.] THE DEFENCE OF CAPTAIN PRE8T0N. 311 

1 suspected tliat this was tlie explosion v/liicli liad been intentionally wrouglit 
up by designing men, who knew what they werq aiming at better than the 
instruments employed. If these poor tools should be prosecuted for any of 
their illegal conduct, they must bt punished. If the soldiers in self-defence 
should kill any of them, they must be tried, and, if truth was respected and 
the law prevailed, must be acquitted. To depend upon the perversion of law, 
and the corruption or partiality of juries, would insensibly disgrace the juris- 
prudence of the country, and corrupt the morals of the people. It would be 
better for the whole people to rise in their majesty and insist on the removal 
of the army, and take upon themselves the consequences, than to excite such 
passions between the people and the soldiers as would expose both to con- 
tinual prosecution, civil or criminal, and keep the town boiling in a continual 
fermentation. The real and full intentions of the British government and 
nation were not yet developed ; and we knew not whether the to^xYL would 
be supported by the country ; whether the province would be supported by 
even our neighbouring States of New England ; nor whether New England 
would be supported by the continent. These were my meditations in the 
night. 

" The next morning, I think it was, sitting in my office, near the steps of 
the town-house stairs, Mr. Forrest came in, who was then called the Irish 
Infant. I had some acquaintance with him. "With tears streaming from his 
eyes, he said, ' I am come with a very solemn message from a very unfortu- 
nate man, Captain Preston, in prison. He wishes for counsel, and can get 
none. I have waited on Mr. Quincy, who says he will engage, if you will 
give him your assistance; without it, he positively will not. Even Mr, 
Auchmuty declines, unless you will engage.' I had no hesitation in answer- 
ing, that counsel ought to be the very last thing that an accused person 
should want in a free country ; that the bar ought, in my 02:)inion, to be in- 
dependent and impartial, at all times and in every circimistance, and that 
persons whose li^•es were at stake ought to have the counsel they preferred. 
But he must be sensible this would be as important a cause as was ever tried 
in any coi;rt or country of the Avorld ; and that every lawyer must hold him- 
self responsible not only to his country, but to the highest and most infallible 
of all tribunals, for the part he should act. He must, therefore, expect from 
me no art or addi'ess, no sophistry or prevarication, in such a cavtse, nor any 
thing more than fact, evidence, and law would justify. ' Captain Preston,' 
he said, ' requested and desired no more ; and that he had such an ojjinion 
from all he had heard from all parties of me, that he could cheerfully trust 
his life Avith me upon those principles.' 'And,' said Forrest, 'as God Al- 
mighty is my judge, I believe him an innocent man.' I replied, ' that must 
be ascertained by his trial, and if he thinks he cannot have a fair trial of that 
issue without my assistance, ivithout hesitation, he shall have it.' " 

Before this, almost with the dawn of day, the people began to reassemble, 
and Fanueil Hall was soon filled with the excited citizens. A town meeting 
was convened, at which it was voted that nothing " could prevc;nt blood and 



312 BURIAL OF TEE "MARTYRS OF LIBERTY:' [1770. 

carnage but tlie immediate removal of the troops." The justices also had 
assembled, and had come to the same conclusion. Samuel Adams was there- 
fore deputed to wait on Hutchinson at the council-chamber, where Colonel 
Dalrymple, the commandant of the troops, 9nd the commander of the ships in 
the harbour, were awaiting him. The vice-governor refused to assmne the 
responsibility of ordering away the troops, but Colonel Dakymple consented 
that the 29th regiment, which was particularly obnoxious to the people,'should 
be removed to the castle for the present. " Sir," said Adams, " if the lieu- 
tenant-governor, or Colonel Dalrpnple, or both together, have authority to 
remove one regiment, they have authority to remove tAvo, and nothing short of 
the departure of both regiments will satisfy the public mind or preserve the 
peace of the proAdnce." Another pressing message coming in from the town 
meeting, Hutchinson was at length persuaded to give orders, with much 
reluctance, that the troops should be wholly withdrawn from the town. 

The news of the " Boston Massacre," as it was called, spread like wildfire, 
and added greatly to the j^opular resentment. As a matter of policy, care was 
taken that the obsequies of the deceased should be performed with the utmost 
solemnity. On the morning of the 8th of March, the shops were all shut, and 
the bells of Boston and the neighbourhood were tolled. The mourners ac- 
companying the different coffins assembled on the spot where three days be- 
fore these " martyrs of liberty," as they were proclaimed, had been shot by a 
barbarous soldiery, and thence, followed by an immense number of people 
walking six abreast, and a file of carriages belonging to the principal people 
of the town, the procession slowly moved to the place of the sepulture, Avhere 
the bodies were deposited in a single tomb. This incident, the memory of 
which was carefully kej^t up, made a profound sensation on the public mind. 
No one could forget that, to quote from a diary of the period, " blood lay in 
puddles yesterday in King Street " — the first blood hitherto di-awn in these 
unhappy disputes. 

The trial of Captain Preston soon afterwards came on, and had been con- 
tinued through a single term, when an election was held for the representation 
of Boston, and it is highly creditable to the electors that, unpopular as John 
Adams had rendered himself with certain classes by undertaking the defence 
of Preston, he was nevertheless elected by a very large majority. Nor is the 
issue of this trial less honourable to the independence of the colonial judiciary. 
An immense and highly excited auditory had assembled, when Adams opened 
the case as follows : " May it please your honours, and you gentlemen of the 
jury, I am for the prisoners at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in the 
words of the Marquis Beccaria — 'If I can be but the instrument of pre- 
serving one life, his blessing and tears of transport shall be a sufficient conso- 
lation to me for the contempt of all mankind.' " The eflfect upon the jury and 
court was perfectly electrical. The facts of the case Avere impartially investi- 
gated, and Preston was declared innocent — the judge declaring, " I feel 
myself deeply affec.tcd that this affair turns out so much to the shame of the 
town in general." " Calumnies and insinuations," says Adams in his diary. 



1770.] OPimOHS OF Tim BOSTON ASSE3IBLY. 813 

" were propagated against me, that I was tempted to undertake this case by 
great fees and enormous sums of money. Twenty guineas," he then tells 
us, " was all I ever received for fourteen or fifteen days' labour in the most 
exhausting and fatiguing cause I ever tried, for hazarding a popularity very 
general and very hardly earned, and for incurring a clamota*, popular suspi- 
cions, and prejudices, which are not yet worn out, and never wiU be forgotten 
as long as the history of this period is read. Although the clamom- has been 
long and loud among some sorts of people, it has been a great consolation to 
me, through life, that I acted in this business with steady impartiality, and 
conducted it to so happy an issue." 

Shortly after the massacre, the lieutenant-governor postponed the meeting 
of assembly from January to March, and ordered it to be convened at Boston, 
in consequence of instructions to that effect from the British ministry. When 
the assembly met, he declared his intention faithfully to discharge his duty 
to the king, his royal master, and his readiness to unite with the members in 
any measures for the welfare of the province. He took no notice of the mas- 
sacre, it not yet having been legally investigated, but shortly afterwards sent 
down to the house requesting redress for some injury received by one of the 
custom-house officers. The reply of the assembly fully shows the excited 
state of the public mind. " When complaints," they say, " are made of riots 
and tumults, it is the wisdom of government, and it becomes the representa- 
tives of the people especially, to inquire into the real causes of them. If they 
arise from oppression, as is often the case, a thorough redi-ess of grievances 
-wall remove the cause, and probably put an end to the complaint. It may 
be justly said of the people of this province, that they seldom, if ever, have 
assembled in a tumultuous manner, unless they were oppressed." Appealing 
then to the Bill of Rights passed after the Revolution of 1689, they declare 
that the maintenance of a standing army in their midst " is a most violent in- 
fraction of their natural and constitutional rights — an unlawful assembly, 
of all others most dangerous and alarming." They next enlarge upon the 
delinquencies of the soldiers, especially "in perpetrating Ihe most horrid 
slaugliter of a number of the inhabitants, but a few days before the sitting of 
this assembly." They express their surprise that there should be no allusion 
either in the governor's speech or message to both houses of this inhuman and 
barbarous action. To these violences, and the rigorous prosecutions, grounded 
on unconstitutional Acts, carried on by the court of Admiralty, they attribute 
the general excitement, and the particular injury complained of by the go- 
vernor. " The use therefore," they conclude, " which we shall make of the in- 
formation in your message, shall be to inqiiire into the grounds of the people's 
uneasiness, and to seek a radical redress of their grievances. Indeed it is 
natural to expect, that while the terror of arms continues in the province, the 
laws will be, in some degree, silent. But when the channels of justice shall be 
again opened, and the law can be heard, the person who has complained to your 
honour Avill have a remedy. Yet we entertain hope, that the military power, 
so grievous to the people, will soon be removed fi-om the province : till then, 

2 8 



314 LORD NORTH BECOMES PRIME MINISTER. [1770. 

we have nothing to expect, but that tyranny and confusion -will prevail, in 
defiance of the laws of the land, and the just and constitutional authority of 
government." 

Meanwhile a change in the English ministry, momentous in its results for 
America, had taken place, and Lord North, head of the Tory party in the 
last ministry, had been appointed the head of a new cabinet composed of men 
of his own political views. On the very night of the Boston massacre a bill 
was brought into the House of Commons for the repeal of all the recently 
imposed taxes, that on tea alone excepted. The impolicy of maintaining this 
exception was strenuously urged by the opposition, especially by Pownall, who, 
from his experience as governor in the colony, was fully qualified to ap- 
preciate both the jealous watchfulness of the Americans over their liberties, 
and, what the ministry never understood till too late, their firm determination 
to maintain them at all events. Even the entire repeal of the obnoxious Acts 
would not of itself, he believed, entirely tranquillize the colonists. " The Ame- 
ricans," he observed, " think that they have, in return to all their applications, 
experienced a temper and disposition that is unfriendly, and that the en- 
joyment and exercise of the common rights of freemen have been refused to 
them. Never with these views will they solicit the favour of this House, never 
more will they wish to bring before parliament the grievances under v/hich 
they conceive themselves to labour." 

The spirit of opposition shown by the Americans had however given such 
deep oflEence to the king and ministry, that they resolved never to yield up the 
disputed right of taxation. In this spirit Lord North declared that the tax on tea, 
in itself too trifling in amount to become a matter of grievance, was expressly 
maintained to assert the power of parliament over the refractory colonies. 
" Has the repeal of the Stamp Act," he asked, " taught the Americans obedi- 
ence ? Has our lenity ins^iired them with moderation ? Can it be proper, 
Avhile they deny our legal power to tax them, to acquiesce in the argument of 
illegality, and by the repeal of the whole law, to give up that power ? No ; the 
most proper time to exert our right of taxation is when the right is denied. 
To temporize is to yield, and the authority of the mother country, if it is now 
unsupported, will in reality be relinquished for ever. A total repeal cannot 
be thought of, till America is prostrate at our feet." Although it may be 
doubtful whether, after what had passed, any amount of concession short of 
at least virtual independence, would finally have satisfied the colonists, we must 
yet consider this particular measure, to carry out which the pride of the king 
and ministers was pledged, as the immediate cause of the disruption of Ame- 
rica from England. Yet it was at the time regarded by the minister rather 
as having a tendency to conciliation ; even the opposition to the tea tax he 
thought would be disarmed, as by offering a drawback of a shilling duty upon 
its expert from England, it virtually became nine-pence a pound cheaper to the 
Americans. The repeal of the other duties did in fact lead to a giving up of the 
non-importation resolutions, which imposed a severe, and often unwelcome, 
self-denial upon the colonists ; but their opposition in all other respects con- 



1771, 72.] HUTCHINSON GOVERNOR OF MASSACHUSETTS. 315 

tinued unabated. Sucli was the state of affairs at the termination of the year 
1770. 

In the ensuing spring, Hutchinson received the appointment of governor, 
which, it was said, had always been the object of his ambition, but which in 
these stormy times he was, if we may behove his own assurances, so far from 
desiring, that he had written to the secretary of state desiring to be super- 
seded in his office of Ueutenant-governor. During the year 1771 there 
was a temporary lull in agitation, which was awakened next year by Hut- 
chinson's informing the house of representatives that thenceforth his salary 
would be paid by the crown, and that no allowance would therefore be re- 
quired of them for that purpose. Far from regarding this as a meiasure of 
relief, the people looked upon it, and justly, as intended to withdraw the 
governor from de]3endence on themselves, and to enable him to carry out the 
designs of the ministers without control. The matter was immediately taken 
up. The representatives of Massachusetts, at their session in July, declared the 
measure to be " an infraction of their charter," which they regarded as " a 
solemn contract between the crown and the inhabitants of the province." 
In reply, the governor, repudiating this doctrine, declared the charter to be 
not " a contract between two independent parties, hut a mere grant of j)owers 
and privileges from the king, which the people of the province could claim 
only so long as the sovereign chose to ratify it, and what he ahvays had the 
power to annul." De jure perhaps the colonists were right ; de facto the 
governor had certainly precedent to plead. It may be questioned indeed 
whether, in the grant of the original charter of Massachusetts, the supreme 
power of the king was not tacitly involved ; but that charter had in fact been 
abrogated by Charles II., and many alterations, and some of them salutary, had 
been effected in it. The most ardent advocate of American claims may then 
admit, with Guizot, that " the aggression of England," viz. in the matter of 
taxation, "was not new, nor altogether arbitrary ; it had its historical founda- 
tions, and might pretend to some right." The truth seems to be, that the 
claims of the conflicting parties were in their very nature irreconcilable, and 
could not be solved by a mere appeal to charters and to precedents. How- 
ever just it might be in the abstract, the doctrine of the Americans which 
denied the controlling power of parliament, (a right hitherto admitted, at 
least, in the external regulation of commerce,) proved in fact too much, for, 
fairly carried out, it involved no less then independence. If parliament, as the 
royalists argued, might lay no duties on the colonists, if the latter might law- 
fully resist their imposition, if the king might not legally quell that resistance 
by force, if the royal governor, in the exercise of his executive functions, was 
to be dependent on the legislative assembly, until he had ratified their mea- 
sures, or until he had given up the maintenance of the royal prerogative, the 
dependence of America on the mother country was merely nominal. To 
have granted her independence at once, would have been the only consistent 
course of policy ; but this was a policy not to be expected at that day of an 
English ministry, and not even looked for by the Americans themselves. On 

2 s 2 



316 HUTCHINSON'S LETTERS GIVEN TO FRANKLIN. [1773. 

the otlier liand, to submit any longer to foreign restrictions upon their com- 
merce, or to a perpetual check upon their legislative freedom of action, enforced 
upon them by the strong arm of a distant power, was gro-wai to be utterly in- 
supportable. Unprepared however boldly to throw off the yoke of the mother 
country, and yet determined no longer to submit to it, the Americans, at this 
crisis of the dispute, determined on drawing up a more careful and compre- 
hensive statement of their rights and grievances than they had ever hitherto put 
forth. This reply to Hutchinson, at first drafted by Samuel Adams, embodied 
the usual popular arguments, and it is supposed was afterwards revised in 
committee by John Adams himself, and placed, by his skill as a jurist, upon 
legal and constitutional grounds, forming as it stands the most celebrated state 
paper of the revolutionary controversy in Massachusetts. 

The bitter feeling against Hutchinson was shortly afterwards increased to 
the highest pitch by the following remarkable incident. Several of his private 
letters to persons connected with government had been artfully abstracted from 
the office by Dr. Williamson, who having learned that they were deposited in 
a draAver different from that in which they ought to have been placed, boldly 
repaired to the chief clerk and demanded the letters, naming the office in 
which they ought to have been deposited, and having thus obtained and placed 
them in the hands of Franklin, the very next day set sail for Holland. 
Franklin appears at first to have thought that the recent acts were rather 
forced upon the king by his ministers, but in a letter written shortly afterwards 
to his son, he seems to have got a new light, for he observes, "Between you 
and me, the late measures have been, I suspect, very much the king's ovn\, 
and he has, in some cases, a great share of what his friends cdiiS.Jirmness.'" Yet 
he had hitherto used his utmost endeavours to promote a conciliation. These 
letters of Hutchinson thus put into liis hand, and obtained without any con- 
nivance on his part, although many of them were strictly private, yet as their 
tenor was to influence the ministry to still severer measures of repression, he 
thought himself justified, having been lately appointed agent for Massachusetts, 
m sending to Boston, to be communicated only to a few confidential persons, 
and neither to be copied nor printed. There, however, upon the motion of 
Samuel Adams, they were read under certain restrictions in the house of assem- 
bly, and were at length made known to the j)ublic. They gave, as might be 
expected, a most unfavourable picture of the state of affairs, the temper of the 
people, and especially of the popular leaders, who were accused of making up 
by their audacity and turbulence for their want of respectability and influence, 
suggested the necessity of the most coercive measures, and a considerable change 
in the constitution and system of government, and even the " taking off"" the 
principal opponents to the British domination. The effect they j^roduced was 
convulsive. They were regarded, to use the words of John Adams, as part of 
a " mystery of iniquity," concocted between the governor and the parhament. 
The assembly unanimously lesolved, "that the tendency and design of the 
said letters was to overthrow the constitution of this government, and to in- 
troduce arbitrary power into the province." They moreover passed a vote, 



i:74] FRANKLIN ACCUSED OF FRAUDULENT PRACTICES. 317 

" that a petition sliould be immediately sent to the king, to remove the governor, 
Hntchinson, and the vice-governor, Oliver, for ever from the government of 
the province." This petition, sent over to Franklin, was transmitted by him to 
Lord Dartmouth, the then colonial secretary ; and he appeared to support it 
at council-chamber on the 11th of July, 1774, but finding that the governor 
intended to employ counsel, he prayed and obtained a three weeks' adjournment 
of the inquiry. 

Meanwhile two gentlemen of the colonial office having suspected each 
other of the abstraction of the letters, a duel took place between them, when 
one of them was dangerously wounded. Franklin hereupon inserted a letter 
in the " Public Advertiser," exonerating both parties, and taking upon him- 
self the entire responsibility of having obtained the documents. 

When the day came on for the hearing of the cause, Franklin, accompanied 
by his friend Dr. Priestley, repaired to the council to support the Massachusetts 
petition, when, to the evident satisfaction of the members, he was assailed by 
Wedderburne, the advocate for Hutchinson, in terms which, to one who justly 
stood so high in the estimation of his countrymen and mankind, and conscious 
as he was of his innocence of the principal charge in general, must have 
required his utmost philosophy to endure. 

" The letters," said the caustic advocate, " could not have come to Dr. 
Franklin by fair means. The writers did not give them to him, nor yet did 
the deceased correspondent. Nothing, then, will acquit Dr. Franklin of the 
charge of obtaining them by fraudulent or corrupt means, for the most ma- 
lignant of purposes, uiih^ss he stole them from the person that stole them. 
This argument is irrefragable." Here, however, the advocate certainly 
v,'ent a little too far; since Franklin had only received the letters from the 
person who stole them. 

" I hope, my Lords," continued "Wedderburne, " you will mark and 
brand the ma.n, for the honour of this country, of Europe, and of manldnd. 
Private correspondence has hitherto been held sacred in times of the greatest 
party rage, not only in politics but in religion. He has forfeited all the 
resjDect of societies and of men. Into what companies will he hereafter go 
with an unembarrassed face, or the honest intrepidity of virtue ? Men will 
watch him with a jealous eye — they will hide their papers from him, and lock 
up their cscritoirs. He will henceforth esteem it a libel to be called a man 
of letters, I/onw iriiim literarum. But he not only took away the letters 
from one brother, but kept himself concealed till he nearly occasioned the 
murder of the other. 

" It is impossible to read his account, expressive of the coolest and most 
deliberate malice, without horror. Amidst these tragical events, of one person 
nearly murdered, of another answerable for the issue, of a worthy governor 
hurt in his dearest interests, the fate of America in suspense, here is a man, 
who, with the utmost insensibility of remorse, stands up and avows him- 
self the author of all. I can compare it only to Zavga in Dr. Young*s 
Revenge — 



318 Q UARREL BETWEEN JAMES OTIS AXD ROBIXSON. [1773. 

* Know, then, 'twas I ; 
I forged the letter ; I disposed the picture. 
I hated, I despised, and I destroy.' 

I ask, my Lords, whetlier the revengeful temper attributed, by poetic fiction 
only, to the bloody African, is not surpassed by the coolness and apathy of 
the Avily American ? " 

During this trying scene, the temper of Franklin appeared impassible, and 
he preserved his countenance unmoved. Unable to explain the way in which 
the letters fell into his hands, he was compelled to submit in silence to the 
charges made against his honour. But the sarcasms and insults of Wedder- 
burne wounded him so profoundly, that he declared to Priestley after he had 
left the council-room that he would never again put on the suit he then wore 
until he had received satisfaction. And it is said that he never dressed himself 
in it again until the memorable day, when he signed at Paris the treaty which 
deprived Great Britain for ever of her dominions in North America. 

The petition was voted scandalous and vexatious, and Franklin dismissed 
from his office of postmaster-general. The altered state of his feelings, pro- 
duced by the treatment of the petition and the opprobium heaped upon himself, 
appears in these words : " When I see that all petitions and comijlaints of 
grievances are so odious to government, that even the mere pipe Avhich con- 
veys them becomes obnoxious, I am at a loss to know how peace and union 
is to be maintained or restored between the different parts of the empire. 
Grievances cannot be redressed unless they are known, and they cannot be 
known but through complaints and petitions. If these are deemed affronts, and 
the messengers punished as offenders, who will henceforth send petitions ? and 
who will deliver them ? It has been thought a dangerous thing in any state to 
stop up the vent of grief. Wise governments have therefore generally re- 
ceived petitions with some indulgence, even when but slightly founded. 
Thoye vv'ho think themselves injured by their rulers, are sometimes, by a 
mild and prudent answer, convinced of their error. But where complaining 
is a crime, hojje becomes despair." 

It was before this period of excitement, in 1770, that Otis, who had so greatly 
tended to bring it about, became involved in a quarrel which led to his .sudden 
rctn-emcnt from the revolutionary stage. One of the commissioners of custom.s, 
named Robinson, had given such imfavoiirable accounts of Otis as provoked 
the latter to retaliate in the Boston Gazette. Some expression he made use of 
induced Robinson publicly to insult Otis in a coffee-house, and an affray en- 
sued in which the latter was so severely handled by his opponent, that he never 
entirely recovered from the effects of it. Heavy damages were awarded against 
the aggressor, but Otis generously forgave him, and refused to receive the 
money. But his health and spirits were irrecoverably broken by this untoward 
and degrading accident, and he was obliged to retire into the country. His 
proud and susceptible nature was undermined, his reason became impaired, 
and the fiery orator upon whose accents listening senates had so lately hung 
enraptiu-ed, became an object of merriment to thoughtless boys as he stag- 




^ 



^ 



1=3 



4 



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s 



17T3. ] DESTR JJCTION OF THE GA SPE AT PRO VIDENCE. 319 

gered tlirougli the streets a driveller and a show. An anecdote is told of 
\\m\, which shows how vivid were the flashes of mental light, bursting at in- 
tervals through the melancholy gloom that overclouded his shattered powers. 
On one occasion a youth who had a knowledge of Latin, cruelly sprinkled 
some water over him from the upper story of a crockery warehouse, ex- 
claiming, " Pluit taut urn, nescio quantum. Sets tie tn ? It rains so much, I 
know not how much. Do you know ? " Otis, infuriated, instantly seized a mis- 
sile, and hurling it through the window to the destruction of every thing that 
came in its way, retorted the words, " Fregi tot, nescio quot. Scis ne tu ? I 
have broken so many, I know not how many. Do you know ? " A burden to 
himself and others, he had often desired to be suddenly cut off, and this desire 
was singularly fulfilled, as he was blasted by lightning, while standing in an 
open doorway during a storm. Thus perished James Otis, the most fervid, 
impetuous, brilliant, and — must we add — unhappy, of all the popular leaders. 
Of them all he had given perhaps the greatest imjjulse to the revolutionary 
feeling, and though a wreck in body and mind, he stiU survived long enough 
to witness its triumphant establishment upon his native soil. 

An incident now occurred wliich added to the growing exasperation of the 
ministerial feelings. The vigorous enforcement of the revenue laws had been 
particularly required of the servants of the crown, and no one had rendered 
himself more obnoxious by his zeal in this respect than Lieutenant Doddington 
of the Gaspe schooner, then stationed at Providence. Having in vain re- 
quired the master of one of the packets to lower his colours, the commander 
of the Gasjje fired at her to bring her to, but the vessel held on her course, 
and artfully stood in close with the land, so that the schooner in following 
her shortly afterwards stuck fast upon a shoal, and the packet proceeded tri- 
umphantly to Providence. Here a daring plan was concerted for the de- 
struction of the obnoxious revenue schooner. About tAVO in the morning, as 
the Gaspe lay aground, she was boarded by several boats full of volunteers. 
The lieutenant, after being wounded in defending his vessel, was put on 
shore with his crew and their personal effects, and the vessel with all her 
stores was set on fire and destroyed. When the governor heard of the out- 
rage, he offered a reward of five hundred pounds and a free pardon to any 
who would confess and give information; but so universal was the conspiracy, 
that no evidence whatever could be j)rocured against the incendiaries. 

AVhilc the English ministry were getting more irritated with the colonists, 
the popular agitation went on increasing, and a crisis ^u^is evidently near at 
hand. The nature of the political institutions of Massachusetts favoured the 
organization of a general resistance. The people, accustomed to discuss their 
affairs in town meetings, warmly took up any subject that affected their 
interests. Boston was, so to speak, the core of the confederation. In this 
city, certain of the leading patriots formed a central committee, called by an 
English Avriter, " tlie source of the rebellion, the foulest, most venomous 
serpent that ever issued from the egg of sedition." This committee decided 
upon the measures to be pursued, and took means, openly or secretly, to carry 



320 COMMITTEES ESTABLISHED B Y THE PA TRIOTS. [1773. 

tliem into execution. By degrees similar committees, mainly established by 
Samuel Adams, Dr. James Warren, and John Hancock, extended themselves 
all over the province, until political agitation became universal, and the im- 
pulse given at head quarters was communicated with electric rapidity to every 
to^\Ti and village. The movement comprehended men of all parties, and of 
every shade of patriotism, from some of the wealthiest and most iixfluential 
citizens, doAvn to the intriguing demagogue, who, having nothing to lose, 
seeks to advance his interest amidst the public troubles. Some of the more 
ardent and daring, who might even then have aspired to independence, were 
perhaps desirous of precipitating an open struggle, but this was, as yet, far 
fi-om being the feeling of the majority. The best and purest minds were per- 
plexed as to the part they should act in the uncertain and alarming drama 
which opened before them. Their feelings may be well judged of by referring 
to the journal of John Adams, who, as before said, notwithstanding the odium 
incurred in the matter of Preston's trial, had been chosen one of the Boston 
representatives, and negatived by Governor Hutchinson for the active part he 
had taken in the opposition. " To-morrow," he says, " is our general elec- 
tion. The plots, plans, schemes, and machinations of this evening and night, 
will be very numerous. By the number of ministerial, governmental peo- 
])\e returned, and by the secrecy of the friends of liberty, relating to the 
grand discovery of the complete evidence of the whole mystery of iniquity, 
(alluding to Hutchinson's letters,) I much fear the elections will go wrong. 
For myself , I own I tremble at the thouglit of an election. Wliat tvill be 
CTpected of me ? IVJtat will be required of me ? What duties and obligations 
will result to me from an election ? What duties to my God, my king, my 
country, my family, my friends, myself ? What perplexities, and intricacies, 
and difficulties shall I be exposed to ? What snares and temptations will be 
thrown in my way ? What self-denials and mortifications shall I be obliged 
to bear ? If I should be called in the course of providence to take a part in 
public life, I shall act a fearless, intrepid, undaunted part at all hazards, though 
it sliall be my endeavour like^udse to act a prudent, cautious, and considerate 
part. But if I should be excused by a non-election, or by the exertion of pre- 
rogative, from engaging in public business, I shall enjoy a sweet tranquillity 
in the pursuit of my private business, in the education of my children, and in 
a constant attention to the preservation of my health. The last is the most 
selfish and pleasant system ; the first the more generous, although arduous and 
disagreeable." Such is the language of pure, disinterested patriotism, and we 
cannot doubt that it would have been echoed by many eminent men at tliis 
anxious and perplexing period. 

But the march of events often outruns the hesitation of individuals, and hur- 
ries them along towards results from which they might originally ha^-e shrunk. 
"WTiat between smuggling and the non-iniportatiou agreements, the market 
of the East India Comj)any in America had so dAvindled doAA-n that a stock of 
seventeen millions of pounds of tea Avas accumulated in their cellars. In 
consequence of their urgent petitions to the government, the export duty Avas 



1773.] ARRIVAL OF THE TEA SHIPS AT BOSTON. 321 

wi*;hdrawn, so tliat, notwithstanding the obnoxious duty of three-pence a 
pound on its importation into America, which the ministers determined to 
maintain upon the ground of principle, the article itself would of course come 
much cheaper to the consumers. This positive advantage to the colonists, it 
was hoped, would tempt them to withdraw their opposition, but in this expect- 
ation the ministry were grossly mistaken, for no sooner was the intelligence 
of this measure received by the colonists, than they pei'ceived at once its 
insidious tendency, and exerted themselves to the utmost to counteract its 
effects. Their activity was increased by private advices from their friends in 
England, who urged ujDon them that noto or never was the moment to make 
a stand, and by prompt and decisive action to convince the ministry that 
America would not submit. The leaders of the people were on the alert, 
the committees of correspondence incessantly active, and the public mind was 
soon inflamed to the highest pitch of determination. The tea, it was resolved, 
should never be landed. 

The first step taken was to compel the consignees to give up their com- 
mission, under f)ain of being declared the enemies of their country. At Phila- 
delphia, a committee was appointed to wait on them for this purpose ; one firm 
complied at once, and were greeted with shouts of applause, but another 
refused to give any pledge until the tea had arrived. 

At Boston, so soon as the names of the consignees were ascertained, they 
were anonymously invited to repair, at an appointed hour, to the well-known 
" Liberty Tree," in order to surrender their commissions. As they took no 
notice of this summons, a committee was sent to wait on them, but with no 
effect. A town meeting was now held, at which Hancock presided, who 
sent a second committee to summon the consignees, among whom were two 
of the governor's sons, to resign their posts. This however, to the great in- 
dignation of the meeting, they declined to do, at least until they had received 
advices from England. As the ships were shortly to be expected, another 
town meeting was held, when a final summons was sent to the consignees, 
to knoAV definitely whether they would or would not resign. Upon their 
positive refusal to do so, the meeting retired without a word. The evening 
before, the house of their members having been mobbed, the consignees placed 
themselves and the tea under the protection of the governor and counciL 
The council, after temporizing for some time, when the first tea ship at length 
came in, flatly refused to render themselves in any way responsible for 
its safety. The governor stood entirely alone." 

The first tea ship having arrived, a crowded public meeting of the citizens 
of Boston and the neighbourhood was held in Faneuil Hall, at which it was 
resolved that a message should be sent to the captain, ordering him, on his 
peril, not to unload his ship without their orders, while a guard was placed 
over her to insure compliance. A similar assemblage taking place on the 
morrow, the governor declared it illegal, and required it to disperse, but to no 
purpose, and the militia were not to be depended upon. The consignees 
promised, if it were allowed to be landed, that they would keep it in their 

2 T 



322 MEETING OF PEOPLE IN OLD SOUTH CHURCH. [1773. 

cellars until tliey could receive fresli orders from England, but tlie people 
demanded the immediate return of tlie ships without unlading. The custom 
officers refused to grant the necessary clearance without the cargo was landed, 
and thus the time passed away until the arrival of two other tea ships. 
The people now determined to act. 

On the 16th of December, a town meeting took place in the old South 
Church. The owner was sent for, and requested to obtain from the customs 
the necessary clearance for the departure of the ships, but the officials refused 
to comply. He "v^as next sent to the governor, then at his country house, a 
few miles from the city, for the same purpose. It was generally believed 
that on the next day, the 17th, the commanders of the ships of war in the 
harbour had determined that, unless the inhabitants withdrew their oppo- 
sition, they would force the tea ashore, under cover of their artillery. It 
was known too that the governor had given order§ to prevent the vessels 
sailing, and that the admiral had stationed two armed vessels at the entrance 
of the harbour. The three tea ships were moored near each other at 
Griffin's wharf. An instant decision became imperative. Josiah Quincy 
harangued the crowded and excited assembly with much solemnity of man- 
ner, and in the fervid style of eloquence universally adopted by the popular 
leaders. " It is not," he said, " the spirit that vapours within these walls 
that must stand us in stead. The exertions of this day will call forth 
events which will make a very different spirit necessary for our salvation. 
Whoever supposes that shouts and hosannas will terminate the trials of 
this day, entertains a childish fancy. He must be grossly ignorant of the 
importance and value of the prize for which we contend ; we must be equally 
ignorant of the power of those who have combined against us, we must be 
blind to that malice, inveteracy, and insatiable revenge which actuates our 
enemies public and' private, abroad and in our bosoms, to hope that we shall 
end this controversy without the sharpest — the sharpest conflict — to flatter 
ourselves that popvilar resolves, popular harangues, popular acclamations, and 
popular vapour will vanquish our foes. Let us consider the issue. Let us 
look to the end. Let us weigh and consider before we advance to those mea- 
sures which must bring on the most trying and terrible struggle this country 
ever saw." Excited as they were to the utmost by this appeal, the question 
was put to the assembled multitude — " Will you abide by your former reso- 
lutions with respect to not suffering the tea to be landed ? " A unanimous 
shout was the reply, and as Hotch, who had been to the governor to request a 
permit, now returned with an answer in the negative, the excitement attained 
its utmost pitch. It was growing dark, and there was a cry for candles, when a 
man disguised as a Mohawk Indian raised the war-whoop in the gallery, 
which was responded to in the street without. Another voice suddenly 
shouted, "Boston harbour a tea-pot to-night! Hurra for Griffin's wharf!" 
The meeting instantly adjourned, and the populace, pouring into the street, 
hurried rapidly down towards the port. 

Every thing had been previously arranged. It was now a fine moonlight 



1773.] THE TEA THROWN INTO BOSTON HARBOR. 

evening, and armed with Katchets and clubs, some five and twenty men, dis- 
guised as Indians, made their appearance in the streets, and hurried do-«ai to ' 
Griffin's wharf. " When I first ajjpeared in the street," says one of the actors 
in this momentous scene, " after being thus disguised, I fell in with many 
who were dressed, equipped, and painted as I was, and who fell in with me, 
and marched in order to the place of our destination. "Wlien we arrived at 
the wharf, there were three of our number who assumed an authority to direct 
our operations, to which we readily submitted. They divided us into three 
parties for the purpose of boarding the three shij^s which contained the tea, 
at the same time. The name of him who commanded the division to which 
I was assigned, was Leonard Pitt. The names of the other commanders I 
never knew." The parties then repaired on board the ships, demanded the 
keys and some candles of the captain, and in about three hours had broken and 
thrown overboard every tea-chest to be found. They Avere surrounded by 
armed ships, but either their operations were unnoticed, or for some other 
reason, no opposition was offered to their proceedings. A dense mob quietly 
stood on the shore while the devastation Avas going on. " AVhen the tea was 
emptied, we quietly," continues the actor, " returned to onr several places of 
residence, without having any conversation with each other, or taking any 
measures to discover who were our associates. There appeared to be an under- 
standing that each individual should volunteer his services, keep his own 
secret, and risk the consequences for himself." No disorder took place, and it 
was observed at the time, that the stillest night ensued that Boston had en- 
joyed for many months. 

The apathy of the naval and military force is almost inexplicable, except 
on the supposition put forth by the papers at the time, that the officials were 
glad of the riot, inasmuch as it extricated them from the unpleasant necessity 
of forcing the tea ashore, when a serious collision must inevitably have ensued. 
Admiral Montague was on shore at the house of a friend, and as the party 
marched from the wharf, raised the window and said, " Well, boys, you've had 
a fine night for your Indian caper, hav'n't you ? But mind, you've got to pay 
the fiddler yet." "Oh never mind," shouted Pitt, the leader, "never mind, 
squire ! just come out here if you please, and we '11 settle the bill in two 
minutes ! " The admiral wisely shut down the window, while the mob went 
on their way with miisic and shouting. 

The die was now cast, and the colonists might speedily look for the utmost 
vengeance of an irritated ministry. " Last night," says John Adams in his 
journal, " three cargoes of Bohea tea were emptied into the sea. This morn- 
ing, a man of war sails. This is the most magnificent movement of all. There 
is a dignity, a majesty, a sublimity, in this last effort- of the patriots, that I 
greatly admire. The people should never rise without doing something to be 
remembered, something notable and striking. This destruction of the tea is 
so bold, so daring, so firm, intrepid, and inflexible, and it must have so im- 
portant consequences, and so lasting, that I cannot but consider it as an epocha 
in history." The excited state of the public mind, and the fury to which 



BM INCREASE OF SETTLEMEXTS IN THE WEST. [1773. 

"party animosity had arisen, is strikingly displayed in what follows : " This, 
however, is but an attack upon property. Another similar exertion of po- 
j)ular power may produce the destruction of lives. Many persons wish that 
as many dead carcasses were floating in the harbour, as there are chests of tea. 
A much less number of lives, however, would remove the causes of all our 
calamities. The malicious pleasure with which Hutchinson the governor, 
the consignees of the tea, and the officers of the customs, have stood and looked 
upon the distresses of the people, and their struggles to get the tea back to 
London, and at last the destruction of it, is amazing. 'Tis hard to believe 
persons so hardened and abandoned." 

The example of Massachusetts was followed in the other colonies. At 
Charleston alone was the tea landed, and being stored in damp cellars was 
soon spoiled. At Philadelphia, the caj^tain of the tea ship, on learning the 
proceedings at Boston, put about and returned. At New York, as soon as 
the tea ship appeared off 'the Hook, she was boarded by a self-constituted 
committee, and the captain com]3elled to retire without unloading her cargo. 

We must here turn aside awhile from the course of the revolutionary quar- 
rels to glance at the progress of emigration at this period. As soon as peace 
had been established with the North-western Indians, a great impulse was 
given to emigration from the Atlantic sea-board into the Far West. Settle- 
ments began to sj^ring up around the few military posts scattered at wide 
intervals through the wilderness ; and routes Avere opened, along which fresh 
stations were gradually established. A town had been already laid out at Fort 
Pitt, or Duquesne, and a road made from thence to the Monongahela. Settle- 
ments had been formed on that river, and every where indeed to the eastward 
of Pennyslvania, Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina. After the French 
war, a vast number of military grants had been issued by the government of 
Virginia, and an army of land surveyors and greedy speculators were busy in 
parcelling out the virgin wilderness, hitherto exclusively occupied by the 
hunting-grounds of the Indians. 

The inevitable result was a collision between the latter and the whites. 
As the Indian title to vast tracts of the land now seized upon had never been 
extinguished, every artifice was used to beguile their consent. In 1744, cer- 
tain commissioners from Pennsylvania and Maryland convened a portion of the 
Six Nations to treat with them for the relinquishment of a large portion of their 
territory, when by the aid of a liberal supply of whiskey punch, these Indians 
were inveigled into signing a treaty, the drift of which they probably never " 
understood, and which they afterwards indignantly rcpu.diated. The more 
daring and lawless portion of the white settlers however continued to advance, 
and settle down uj)on Indian lands, without even the shadow of a right. 
Against these continual encroachments, sustained as they were by force and 
outrage, the Indians had repeatedly remonstrated to the local governments, 
but to little or no purpose. At length, on the 6th of May, 1768, a deputation 
from the Six Nations repaired to Fort Pitt, to present a remonstrance, which 



1773.] DANIEL BOONE DISCOVERS KENTUCKY. 325 

was forwarded to the assembly of Virginia. The president of the council in 
his message declared, "that a set of men regardless of the laws of natural jus- 
tice, unmindful of the duties they owe to society, and in contempt of the 
royal proclamations, have dared to settle themselves upon the lands near 
Kedstone Creek and Cheat river, which are the property of the Indians, and 
notwithstanding the repeated warnings of the danger of such lawless proceed- 
ings, they still remain unmoved, and seem to defy the orders and even the 
powers of the government." The royal government was at length compelled 
to interfere, by ordering Sir William Johnson to purchase from the Six Nations 
the lands aheady thus occupied, as well as to obtain a further grant ; and 
accordingly, by a treaty at Fort Stanwix, large bodies of land extending to 
the Ohio were, as it was said, ceded by the Indians, but, as they firmly de- 
clared, by an unfair construction of their engagements. 

Thus, by force and fraud combined, or rather by an invincible and fatal 
necessity, the unhappy Indians were by degrees forced into a combination for 
their own defence, determined to resent the further advance of the white 
men upon their forests, and to cut off as spies such as dared to penetrate into 
as yet undiscovered regions. 

Nevertheless there were a few daring backwoodsmen, who, animated by a 
restless love of adventure, continued to defy every peril in order to make fresh 
explorations. Such a man was Daniel Boone, born and bred u])on the fron- 
tiers of North Carolina and Virginia, west of the Alleghany, a woodsman and 
a hunter by nature, and half an Indian himself in that tenacity and endurance 
that no peril or hardship can cuail. Buried in the woods, his countenance 
had acquired that grave, sombre cast, that distinguishes the red man himself; 
and he shunned the haunts of society, devoured by one single passion, that of 
contending with the wild denizens of the forest, whether man or beast, and of 
becoming a pioneer for the further advance of his white brethren. 

Allured by the descriptions of one Finley, a trader, who "had already caught 
a glunpse of the land of promise, Boone eagerly joined in an exploring expe- 
dition in company with Finley, John Stuart, and three other companions. 
Wlien they had advanced two hundred niiles to the west, the party divided, and 
Boone and Stuart proceeded in company, until from a lofty eminence they 
saw the beautiful plain of Kentucky, and its river rolling at their feet. Hardly 
had this splendid prospect opened before them, when they were surprised by a 
party of Indians, from whom they eventually succeeded in making their 
escape, and forming a hunting camp, the proceeds of which were sent to 
an eastern mart. During the year, Boone and Stuart remained the sole oc- 
cupants of the "forbidden ground" of Kentucky, eluding the constant pursuit 
of the Indians, until the former returned to conduct a colony thither, but was 
attacked and driven back by the Indians. A treaty for the cession of the lands 
south of Kentucky now being at length accomplished, Boone set off with a 
party,, and opened the first " Mazed Irace " or outline of a road to the banks of 
the Kentucky river, where he laid the foundation of Boonesborough. Such 
was the father of the state of Kentucky, to whom in all his attributes his 



326 OUTRAGES COMMITTED ON THE BORDERS. [1774. 

children have ever borne a marvellous family resemblance. We can but 
briefly trace the further career of this extraordinary man. During the revo- 
lutionary war, he was taken prisoner by the Indians, and became such a 
favourite that he was adopted into their tribe as a brave; but on learning that 
a body of British and Indians had assembled for the invasion of Kentucky 
and the destruction of his darling Boonesborough, he suddenly decamped, 
and with a single meal in his pocket, across the wilderness, accomplishing a 
hundred and fifty miles in six days, and gave such timely notice to his fellow 
citizens as set aside the threatened attack. At the end of the war he settled 
down as a farmer, but found that the lands which he had himself first dis- 
covered had been granted away to some land-speculator in an eastern city. 
Thus driven away, he retired in disgust beyond the Mississippi, and sought a 
last resting-place on the banks of the Missouri, beyond the extreme verge of 
civilization, and here the old hunter was quietly gathered to his fathers. 
His grateful fellow citizens have since removed his bones into Kentucky, and 
buried them with those of his wife in a common sepulchre. 

Meanwhile the stream of emigration continued to pour incessantly west- 
ward. Since the treaty concluded by Sir William Johnson, the Indians 
gradually retired toward the west side of the Oliio, and though jealous at the 
rapid encroachments of the whites, carefully abstained from any acts of hosti- 
lity towards them. By the atrocious outrages of a handful of sanguinary 
monsters, the ofFscouring of civilized society, they were at length goaded into 
a war of revengeful extermination. 

It was in the summer of 17T4, that a considerable body of land-jobbers 
assembled at Wheeling, where a fort had been recently erected, anxious to 
precipitate a collision with the peaceful Indians. It was reported that the 
latter had stolen some of their horses, and the rumour was eagerly propa- 
gated that they were meditating an immediate rising, which, conscious, as too 
many of the settlers Avere, of outrages and injuries committed by themselves, 
might in itself have appeared probable. A few days afterwards, it was known 
that two Indians were descending the river in a canoe, when Captain Cresap, 
the commander of Fort Fincastle, pro^^osed to put them to death at once. 
Colonel Zane, proprietor of AATieeling, remonstrated upon the folly and wick- 
edness of such conduct, but in vain. Cresap and his party waylaid the 
unsuspecting Indians, shot them down, threw them overboard, and return- 
ed to Wlieeling in their bloodstained canoes. A still more base and bloody 
outrage was committed by one Daniel Greathouse, who contrived to decoy a 
body of Indians across the river, and after making them drunk, murdered 
them in cold blood. Atrocities of this description grew common. An old 
and distinguished chief, named " Bald Eagle," who had been friendly to 
the whites, was treacherously killed by three white men, who afterwards 
placed the lifeless body of their victim in a sitting position in his cano€, and 
sent it floating down the stream. Every outrage, in short, was perpetrated by 
this scum of the Avilderness upon the unoflending Indians ; and as the general 
feeling was so strong against them, and the members of the executive them- 



1774.] THE INDIANS C02IPELLED TO DECLARE WAR. 327 

selves involved in the charge, no redress of any sort was likely to be 
afforded. 

The passions of the Indians were now inflamed to the utmost pitch, and 
the long-smothered feeling of revenge broke out with a fearful energy. The 
Shawanese were the principals in the war, but the other northern and western 
tribes soon entered into alliance with them. They put to death all the white 
men they could lay their hands on, and cutting their bodies in fragments, 
scattered them to the four winds. Among the victims of the white murder- 
ers was the whole family of John Logan, an Indian chief, who had ever been 
the fast friend of the whites, and the strenuous advocate of peaceful counsels. 
Tortured beyond endurance, he was among the first to declare hostilities, and 
left " the war club " at the house of a settler, with the following note at- 
tached to it. 

" Captain Cresap — 

Why did you kill my people on Yellow Creek ? The white people 
killed my kin at Conestago a great while ago, and I thought nothing of that. 
But you have killed my kin again on Yellow Creek, and took my cousin 
prisoner. Then I thought I must kill too, and I have been three times to 
,war since : but the Indians are not angry, it is only myself. 

July 21, 1774. Captain John Logan." 

The whole frontier was now exposed to a war of extermination, many set- 
tlements were deserted, and the inhabitants fled to the different forts for 
refuge against the infuriated savages. 

A message being immediately sent to Lord Dunmore, the governor of 
Virginia, a body of troops was speedily organized, commanded by General 
Lewis, Vv'ho marched through a trackless wilderness as far as the valley of the 
Kenhawa, while Lord Dunmore himself hastened to join him. While en- 
camped with a force of about twelve hundred men on the peninsula, above the 
mouth of the great Kenhawa, Lewis was suddenly attacked by an immensely 
superior body of Indians, who advanced to the assault with the most darins" 
courage. Intrenching themselves behind a breastwork of logs, they kept 
up a deadly fire upon the Virginians ; for ten hours the conflict was main- 
tained with equal courage and success. The Indian force comprised the 
flower of the tribes, and was commanded by their most distinguished chief- 
tains. Among them was the famous Shawanese chief. Cornstalk, with his son, 
Ked Hawk, a Delaware, and Logan himself. Cornstalk had previously ad- 
vised a truce, but being overruled by the eager passions of his brethren, 
sternly declared, " Since you will fight, you shall fight." His voice was heard 
in the din of battle, exclaiming to his men, " Be strong, be strong ! " and he 
cut down with his own hand any one who offered to fiinch. At length. 
General Lewis, unable to force the Indians in front, detached three com- 
panies, who stealthily advancing under cover of the underwood till they had 
gained the rear of the savages, opened iipon them a terrible fire, which 
creating a panic, they suddenly fled and retreated to their towns. 



328 TREATY WITH THE INDIANS. [1774. 

Lord Dunmore having now arrived, the Indians were vigorously pressed 
on all sides, and compelled to make overtures to the commander-in-chief, who 
consented to an armistice, and ordered Lewis to suspend the march of his 
army, who were burning with desire to avenge their loss on the bloody day 
at the Kenhawa. Lewis, however, twice refused to obey, and continued his 
march, until he was encountered by Lord Dunmore, who, at the head of his 
staff, peremptorily ordered him to halt and encamp, and a conference with the 
Indians was immediately opened. 

Cornstalk then arose, and with a voice so loud as to be heard over the 
whole camj), and with great energy and dignity of manner, exposed the wrongs 
of his brethren. " He recited the former power of the Indians, the number 
of their tribes compared with their present wretched condition, and their 
diminished numbers; he referred to the treaty of Fort Stanwix, and the 
cessions of territory then made by them to the Avhites ; to the lawless en- 
croachments of the whites upon their lands, contrary to all treaty stipulations; 
to the patient forbearance of the Indians for years under wrongs exercised 
toward them by the frontier people. He said the Indians knew their weak- 
ness in a contest with the whites, and they desired only justice ; that the war 
was vot sought hy the Indians, but was forced upon them; for it was com- 
menced by the whites without previous notice : that, under the circumstances, 
they would have merited the contempt of the whites for cowardice if they had 
failed to retaliate the unprovoked and treacherous murders at Captina and 
Yellow Creeks ; that the war was the work of the Avhites, for the Indians de- 
sired peace." 

Terms of pacification were soon arranged. The Indians agreed to surrender 
their prisoners and abstain from further hostilities against settlements east and 
south-east of the Ohio, and to recognise that river as the proper boundary 
between themselves and the whites. Presents were then distributed, and the 
army disbanded ; upon Avhich the governor shortly afterwards returned home, 
where he issued a proclamation warniilg all persons from trespassing on the 
Indian lands on the west side of the river. 

The unhappy Logan, indignant at the murder of his family, had refused to 
assist at the treaty. But some time afterwards, when General Gibson was sent 
into the west, he saw Cornstalk and Logan together .in conference, when the 
latter, taking him aside into a covert, seated himself on a log, and after shed- 
ding abundance of tears, delivered to him the following speech,, to be trans- 
mitted by the general to the royal governor. " I appeal to any white man to 
say if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him nothing to eat ; 
if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course 
of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advo- 
cate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen 
pointed at me as they passed and said, 'Logan is the friend oj wlnte 
men," I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one 
man. Captain Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, mur- 
dered all the relations of Logan, sparing not even my 'women and children. 



ir:4.] THE BOSTON PORT BILL. 329 

There runs not a drop of my blood in any living creature. This called on 
me for revenge : I have sought it ; I have killed many ; I have fully glutted 
my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace ; but do not 
harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He 
will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan ? 
Not one ! " 



CHAPTER VII. 



FROM THE PASSING OF THE BOSTON PORT BILL, TO THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

The news of the destruction of the tea raised the feelings of the king and 
ministry to the highest pitch of exasperation. Hitherto, while determined to 
maintain the right of taxation, they had displayed in enforcing it the utmost 
moderation and lenity. The governor had not called in the assistance of the 
military, and re^Deated infraction of the laws had been allowed to pass un- 
punished. But the daring spirit shown in the recent outrage, detcrnihaed 
them to trifle no longer A\'ith a growing evil, but to adopt the most vigorous 
measures of coercion. Accordingly, on the 7th of March, Lprd North pre- 
sented a message from his INIajcsty to both Houses, pointedly calling their 
attention to the " violent and outrageous proceedings of the town and port of 
Boston." " The utmost lenity on the part of the governor — perhaps too 
much," observed the minister, " had been already shown, and this town, by 
its late proceedings, had left government perfectly at liberty to adopt any 
measures they shovdd think convenient, not only for redressing the wrong 
sustained by the East India Company, but for inflicting such punishment as 
their factious and criminal conduct merited." The House having voted a 
loyal reply, a bill was brought in on the 14th, by Lord North, '^for the im- 
mediate removal of the officers concerned in the management and collection 
of his JNIajcsty's customs from the town of Boston, and to discontinue the 
landing or shipping of goods at the said town, or within the harbour thereof." 
As the capital of Massachusetts was in fact, as Lord North observed, " the 
ringleader in every riot," the focus of resistance to the royal authority, 
whence the spirit of insubordination was communicated to the whole conti- 
nent, the ministers not only felt justified in inflicting upon her this ex- 
emplary punishment, but hoped that this timely severity would crush the 
spirit of sedition in the bud. 

The motion was received in deep silence. Every one felt what momentous 
consequences might ensue, but even the advocates of colonial liberties shrunk 

2 TS 



330 IJVTEODUCTION OF OTHER ARBITRARY BILLS. [1774. 

from defending this last instance of the violent and lawless conduct of the 
Bostonians. On the subsequent reading of the bill, Mr. Fuller proposed that 
a fine should be substituted for the closing of the port. Lord North, how- 
ever, was inflexible : " I hope," he said, " that our unanimity will go half way 
to insure the obedience of the people of Boston to this bill. The honourable 
gentleman tells us that the Act will be a piece of waste paper, and that an 
army Avill be required to put it into execution. The good of this Act is, 
that four or five frigates will do the business without any military force." So 
ignorant were the ministry of the true state of things in America. On the 
final reading, the bill was opposed by Burke, but it passed with hardly a 
dissentient voice, and was immediately ratified by the Upper House, although 
the Duke of Richmond, and several other peers, strongly protested against it. 

As if this bill for closing of their port were not sufilcient punishment, 
another shortly followed it, which deprived the people of Ncav England of 
almost every vestige of their ancient liberties. By this Act " for better regu- 
lating the government of Massachusetts Bay," the royal governor was em- 
powered to appoint all the civil authorities whatever, who were also to have 
the nomination of juries, functions hitherto vested in the people themselves ; 
and as their town meetings had proved the nursery of opposition to govern- 
ment, they were now entirely prohibited, except for the j)urpose of electing re- 
presentatives. A third Act, ostensibly designed " for the more impartial adminis- 
tration of justice," provided, in view of such cases as that of Captain Preston — 
that " any person indicted for murder, or any other capital offence, committed 
in aiding the magistracy, the governor might send the person so indicted to 
another^ colony, or to Great Britain, for trial." 

These last bills called forth a vigorous spirit of opposition from the friends 
of America. Among these, Barre lifted up his voice with characteristic energy. 
*' You may think," he said, " that a law founded on this inotion will be a pro- 
tection to the soldier who imbrues his hand in the blood of his fellow subjects. 
T am mistaken if it will. Who is to execute it ? He must be a bold man 
indeed who will make the attempt. If the people are so exasperated that it is 
unsafe to bring the man who has injured them to trial, let the governor who 
withdraws him from justice look to himself. The people will not endure it; 
they would no longer deserve the reputation of being descended from the 
loins of Englishmen if they did endure it. You have changed your ground. 
You are becoming the aggressors, and offering the last of human outrages 
to the people of America, by submitting them to military execution. Instead 
of sending them the olive branch, you have sent the naked sword. By 
the olive branch, I mean a repeal of all the late laws, fruitless to you, and 
oppressive to them. Ask their aid in a constitutional manner, and they will 
give it to the utmost of their ability. Your journals bear the recorded ac- 
knowledgments of the zeal with which they have contributed to the general 
necessities of the state. "VYliat madness is it that prompts you to attempt 
obtaining that by force which you may more certainly obtain by requisition ? 
They may be flattered into any thing, but they are too much like yourselves to 



1774.] PITTAAD BURKE OPPOSE THE MEASURES IN VAIN. C31 

be driven. Resj^ect iheir sturdy English virtue — retract your odious exertions 
of authority, and remember that the fii'st step toward making- them contribute 
to your Avants is to reconcile them to your government." He justly repre- 
sented it too as being the more unreasonable, that Captain Preston himself, 
notwithstanding the general feeling against him, had been nobly defended 
even by members of the opposition, and acquitted by a jury of Americans. If, 
even at a time of the highest excitement, experience had shown that a servant 
of the crown could obtain a fair trial in America, what occasion could there be 
for bringing him over to England ? Notwithstanding all the opposition that 
could be offered, the bills passed by a majority of four to one. 

A fourth bill, for quartering troops in America, was shortly added to the 
former ; on which occasion Lord Chatham, who owing to his declining health 
could take but a small part in the debates, opposed the ministerial policy wath 
his usual animation. " I condemn," he said, " in the severest manner the 
turbulent and unwarrantable conduct of the Americans in some instances, 
particularly in the late riots at Boston ; but, my Lords, the mode which has 
been pursued to bring them back to a sense of their duty is so diametrically op- 
posed to every principle of sound policy, as to excite my utmost astonish- 
ment. You have involved the guilty and the innocent in one common punish- 
ment, and avenge the crime of a few lawless depredators upon the whole body 
of the inhabitants. 

" My Lords, it has always been my fixed and unalterable opinion, I will 
carry it with me to the grave, that this country has no right under heaven 
to tax America. It is contrary to all the principles of justice and civil policy, 
it is contrary to that essential, unalterable right ingrafted into the British 
constitution as a fundamental law, that what a man has honestly acquired is 
absolutely his own, which he may freely give, but which cannot be taken away 
from him without his consent." Burke also strengthened the opposition by 
one of his most famous speeches. But all w^as in vain, and the measures of 
the ministers passed with a large majority. With a view to conciliate the 
Canadians in case of an appeal to arms, they wisely placed the Catholics and 
Protestants on an equality, confirmed to the Catholic clergy their extensive 
landed property, allowed the administration of justice to be carried on by the 
old French law, created a legislative council to be named by the crown, and 
enlarged the boundaries of the province southward as far as the Ohio, mea- 
sures to which it was doubtless owing that the Canadians remained entirely 
passive during the revolutionary w^ar. 

As the reluctance of the civil governor to call in the military arm had 
hitherto paralysed repressive operations, it was decided that, to insure greater 
promptitude and decision, Hutchinson should be superseded by General Gage, 
in whose person were united the offices of governor of the province of INIas- 
sachusetts and commander of his Majesty's forces in America. 

The result of these measures was fully predicted by the opposition. After 
vainly endeavouring to combat the obstinate determination of the cabinet. 
Rose FuUer exclaimed to them, " You will commence your ruin from this 

2 u 2 



332 GENERAL OA GE GOVERNOR OF MASSA CHUSETTS. [1744. 

day ! I am sorry to say tliat not only lias tlie House fallen into tliis error, but 
tlie people approve of tlie measure. The people, I am sorry to say, are misled. 
But a short time will prove the evil tendency of this bill. If ever there was 
a nation rushing headlong to ruin, it is this." 

The intelligence of the passing of the bill for closing their port was received 
by the Bostonians only a few days before the arrival of General Gage. In the 
midst of their exasperation he had looked for some tokens of disrespect, but was 
received with all the distinction due to his rank and character. But his appear- 
ance in their midst, armed as he was with such extensive power, and shortly to 
be followed by a formidable array of military force, operated no restraint upon 
the manifestation of their feelings. The very next day a town meeting assem- 
bled, who declared that " the impolicy, injustice, inhumanity, and cruelty of 
the Act exceed our powers of expression. We therefore," they say, " leave it 
to the just censure of others, and appeal to God and the world." They earn- 
estly recommend a joint resolution of all the colonies to put a stop to all com- 
mercial intercourse Avith Great Britain. " The bill," said Quincy, disregarding 
the fiict that the whole population had tacitly involved themselves in the act 
which had led to its imposition, and that no legal conviction of any offender 
could, in consequence of the universal complicity, be obtained, '* condemns 
a whole town unheard, nay, u^ncited to answer, and involves thousands in ruin 
and misery, without any suggestion of the crime by them committed. The 
destruction of the tea, which took place without any illegal procedure of the 
town, is the only alleged ground of consigning thousands of its inhabitants to 
ruii;i, misery, and despair." It was a moment of deep anxiety to the po- 
pidar leaders at Boston. Woidd they, who had taken the initiative in the 
struararle, be left to maintain it sino-le-handed, or would their sister colonies 
nobly come forward to fortify their resistance and mitigate the sufferings they 
were caUed upon to endure ? Every means was immediately taken to obtain 
the sympathy of their fellow colonists. Copies of the resolution were forwarded 
to the committees of correspondence. The bill, printed on black-edged paper, 
adorned with a death's head and cross-bones, was hawked about, coupled with 
the epithets of " cruel, barbarous, bloody, and inhuman murder," and solemnly 
burned by the assembled populace. Agents were seiit to the other colonics to 
engage them in the common cause. The clergy from their pulpits animated the 
people to resistance, while the press teemed with the most moving and vigorous 
appeals to their feelings. The news of the injury inflicted on Boston pro- 
duced throughout the colonies a general and spontaneous feeling of indigna- 
tion. In Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, and INIaryland addresses of 
sympathy and promises of support were forwarded to the citizens of Boston, 
and suggesting as the best remedy the formation of a continental congress. 
In Virginia, the House of Representatives was in session at Williamsburg, 
when the news of the passing of the Boston Port bill was received. Among 
them was Washington, whom we now again meet with among the prominent 
actors in the troubled scene. Since the close of the Canadian war, he had 
married a beautiful and wealthy heiress, and quietly settled down on his estates. 



1774.] RECOMMENDA TI0N8 FOR A GENERAL CONGRESS. 333 

engaged in his favourite amusement of agriculture, and was on sucli terms 
with the royal governor. Lord Dunmore, that he was about to join him in an 
excursion to the western country, had not a family affliction intervened to 
prevent him. Notwithstanding, he has been among the very first to oppose 
the encroachments of the English ministry. The Stamp Act he denounced as 
" an unconstitutional method of taxation, and a direful attack upon the 
liberties of the colonists." He had been present in the Virginia legislature 
when Patrick Henry delivered his tlndlling speech. He was among the 
most decided in enforcing the non-importation agreements, but his conscien- 
tiousness was manifested by his protesting against the convenient doctrine 
of non-payment of previous debts due to English merchants. His opi- 
nions as to the iniquity of the ministerial Acts, and the small chance of 
obtaining redress by j)ctitioning the king and ministry, were unalterable. 
" For my own part," he says in a letter to a friend, " I shaU. not undertake to 
say where the line between Great Britain and the colonies should be drawn, 
but I am clearly of opinion that one ought to be drawn, and our rights clearly 
ascertained. I could wish, I own, that the dispute had been left for posterity 
to determine, but the crisis is arrived when we must assert our rights, or sub- 
mit to every imposition that can be heaped upon us, till custom shall make us 
tame and abject slaves." The sentiments of Washington were those of the 
whole assembly, and they accordingly passed an order fully displaying that 
they considered the cause of the Bostonians as their OAvn. " Deeply impressed 
with apprehension of the great dangers to be derived to British America 
from the hostile invasion of our sister colony of jNIassachusetts Bay," they 
appoint the 1st of June, the day on which the Port bill was to come into oper- 
ation, " as a day of fasting, humiliation, and j^rayer, to implore the Divine in- 
terposition for averting the heavy calamity which threatened destruction to 
their civil rights, and the evils of civil war, and to give them one heart and 
one mind firmly to oppose by all just and proper means every injury to Ame- 
can rights." 

Next day Lord Dunmore, considering the terms of this resolution as " re- 
flecting highly upon his Majesty and the parliament," dissolved the house. 
The members immediately withdrew to the Paleigh Tavern, and organizing 
themselves into a committee, drcAv up a resolution, in which, after enumerating 
the injurious measvires of the British parliament, they express their oj^inion 
that an attack made on one of oiu- sister colonies to compel submission to 
arbitrary taxes, threatens ruin to the rights of all, unless the united wisdom of 
the whole be applied, and they recommend to the committee of correspond- 
ence to communicate with their several corresponding committees on the ex- 
pediency of appointing depvities to meet in a general congress. This done, most 
of the members then returned to their own homes. On the 1st of June — ap- 
pointed for the religious services — Washington went to church and fasted the 
M'hole day. 

Similar manifestations of public grief took place in most of the other cities. 
At Philadelphia, a stillness reigned over the city, which exhibited an appear- 



334 THE MASSA CHUSETTS ASSEMBLY MEETS AT SALEM.[1'71!4:. 

ance of the deepest distress. At Boston, on tlie 1st of June, tlie day designated 
by the Act, business was finished at twelve o'clock at noon, and the harbour 
shut up against all vessels. As that sea-port was entirely dependent upon com- 
merce, the ministerial measure cut off at once the subsistence of a great part 
of its citizens. The rich merchant was threatened with ruin, the poor man 
with the loss of his daily bread. The rents of wharf-holders ceased, and by the 
stoppage of the multifarious operations of a commercial city, all hands were 
reduced to idleness, and all heads given up with increased exasperation to the 
consideration of their political grievances. The Bostonians endured their 
sufferings with the most inflexible fortitude. Addresses and congratulations 
poured in upon them from all sides, and they received more substantial proofs 
of the sympa,thy of their fellow colonists, in contributions raised for their, 
relief, which, however, could but very partially mitigate the severity of 
their distress. If the English government, whose policy was always to foment 
a collision of interests between the different colonists, flattered themselves that 
the inhabitants of Salem would secretly rejoice at a measure that promised to 
enrich themselves, they were speedily disabused. The inhabitants of that 
port concluded an address to General Gage In terms most honourable to their 
patriotic sympathy. " By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that 
the course of trade might be turned hlt];ier, and for our benefit, but nature. In 
the formation of our harbour, forbids our becoming rivals in commerce to that 
convenient mart ; and were it otherwise, we must be dead to every idea of 
justice, lost to every feeling of humanity, could we indulge one thought to 
seize on wealth, and raise ourselves on the ruins of our suffering neighbours." 
The inhabitants of Marblehead also generously offered to the Boston mer- 
chants the free use of their wharves and warehouses, and their personal 
attendance upon the lading and unlading of their goods. 

The sitting of the representatives of Massachusetts, who assembled at 
Boston on the 25th of ^fay, Avas perhaps the most anxious hitherto ever 
known In the history of the colony. The first act of the governor Avas to in- 
form them that he should in a few days adjourn them to Salem, where he 
expected they would be less under the control of popular influence. He also 
stretched his jircrogatlve to the utmost by giving his negative to thirteen of 
the liberal members chosen by the assembly for the council, and among 
whom were Bowdoin, Quincy, and John Adams. The representatives adopted 
resolutions advising the people to be firm and patient, and to adhere with 
inflexible steadiness to the non-Importation agreement. Shortly after, the 
court of representatives removed to Salem. There, on the 17th of June, they 
proceeded to adopt and sign " a solemn league and covenant," and to vote a 
committee of members to attend the general congress to meet next September 
at Philadelphia, and to vote a suitable provision for their expenses. The 
governor having received from a political friend among the members some 
intimation of what was going forward, despatched his secretary to dissolve the 
assembly. Samuel Adams, hoAvever, secured the key, and locked the doors 
of the chamber, until the proceedings had been terminated, while the secre- 



1774.] PREPARATIONS FOR AN OPEN STRUGGLE. 335 

taiy, wlio had forced his way into the house, v^as compelled to stand without 
and read his proclamation on the staircase. The delegates chosen to congress 
were Bowdoin, Gushing, Paine, Samuel Adams, and John Adams. How im- 
portant was the moment, and how anxious the feelings it excited, may be best 
gathered from an entry made on this occasion in the diary of the last-named 
patriot. It is related of him, that being advised by a friend not to accept of 
the appointment of delegate, as Great Britain was determined to subdue the 
colonies, and her power was irresistible, he replied that, " as to his fate, the 
die was cast ; the Rubicon was passed ; sink or swim, live or die — to survive 
or perish with his country was his unalterable resolution." His perturbation 
was nevertheless extreme. " There is," he writes, " a new and a grand scene 
open before me, a congress. This will be an assembly of the wisest men upon 
the continent, who are Americans in principle, that is, against the taxation of 
Americans by authority of parliament. I feel myself unequal to this business. 
A more extensive knowledge of the realm, the colonies, and of commerce, as 
well as law and policy, is necessary, than I am master of. What can be done ? 
Will it be expedient to propose an annual congress of committees ? To petition ? 
Will it do to petition at all ? To the king ? to the Lords ? to the Commons ? 
What will such consultations avail ? Deliberations alone will not do. We 
must petition, or recommend the assemblies to petition, or — 

" The ideas of people are as various as their faces. One thinks, no more 
petitions — former having been neglected and despised. Some are for resolves, 
spirited resolves ; and some are for bolder counsels. I wander alone and 
ponder, I muse, I mope, I ruminate. I am often in reveries and brown 
studies. The objects before me are too grand and multifarious for my com- 
prehension. We have not men fit for the times. We are deficient in genius, 
in education, in travel, in fortune, in every thing. I feel unutterable anxiety. 
God grant us wisdom and fortitude. Should the opposition be suppressed, 
should this country submit, what infamy and ruin ! God forbid. Death in 
any form is less terrible." 

The advocates of the " bolder counsels " alluded to by Adams, were already 
preparing for an open struggle. The great bulk of the citizens formed 
themselves into companies, most of them headed by officers who had served 
in the late wars. The excitement rapidly spread, on all sides were to be 
seen the marching and exercising of militia regiments, the founding of 
bullets and the making of cartouches. By this time several English regi- 
ments had been concentrated about Boston, five of which were quartered in the 
town itself. A collision might be expected at any moment. Aware that the 
inhabitants were endeavouring to form magazines, Gage sent a body of sol- 
diers to seize some powder belonging to the province, lest it should be made 
use of for insurrectionary purposes. No sooner had this got wind, than 
the inhabitants flew to arms, and were with diflSculty restrained by their leaders 
from marching down to Boston to attack the garrison. Several councillors re- 
siding at Cambridge, who had been nominated by the crown, were tumultu- 
ously mobbed and compelled to resign their appointments. While the people 



336 THE CONVENTION ASSUMES THE GOVERNMENT. [1774 

•were in this excited state a report having by some means got abroad that 
the British ships were bombarding the town, in a few hours some thirty 
thousand militia-men were in motion towards Boston, and only turned back 
when they ascertained that the report was unfounded. Amidst this effer- 
vescence. Gage had deemed it but prudent to fortify Boston Neck, so as to 
command the only land access to the isthmus upon Avhich the town is built, 
and to place himself in security against any sudden surprise ; although as 
yet the communication between the city and the country was allowed to re- 
main undisturbed. 

The quarrel between the governor and the people was now open and un- 
disguised. A convention of popular delegates met and resolved, " that no 
obedience was due to either or any of the recent Acts of Parliament," and ex- 
horted the tax-gatherers not to pay over any money into the hands of govern- 
ment until it should be constitutionally organized. The governor retorted 
by declaring this and similar meetings " unlawful and traitorous," but to no 
purjjose. He soon found himself blockaded in Boston, without the 'shadow 
of power, the real administration of the province having been assumed by 
the convention. The recent Acts were completely nullified. Of the council- 
lors who had been appointed by Gage, some, apprehensive of popular violence, 
had resigned, and the rest were voted " obstinate and incorrigible enemies 
of their country." Juries refused to be sworn in, lest by so doing they should 
recognise the authority of the cro-svn. Such as ventured to oppose themselves 
to the popular feeling were tarred and feathered, and compelled to take refuge 
with tlic troops. The partisans and opponents of government, mutually call- 
ing each other " Tories " and " Bebcls," had commenced that career of dis- 
cord M'hich grew every day more bitter and envenomed, and 'svliich j)roved one 
of the most melancholy features in the revolutionary conflict. 

Some time previously, when Governor Hutchinson took his departure for 
England, many of the wealthier inhabitants of Boston had drawn up a com- 
plimentary address to him, but soon found that they had thereby rendered 
themselves the objects of general odium. They were stigmatized as "ad- 
dressers," and to avoid worse handling, were compelled to put forth a public 
recantation of their oifence. Dreading the pass to which things were coming, a 
hundred and twenty merchants of Boston now signed an address to Gage, who 
had replaced Hutchinson, exjDressing their Avillingness to pay for the tea 
destroyed. Others, who were desirous of peace at all events, revolted at 
seeing the ministers of religion lending their influence from the pulpit to 
inflame the popular clamour, and they protested also against the revolutionary 
tendency of the measures of the committee of correspondence. But vain was 
the attempt to stem the stream ; these efforts of the moderate party only led 
to a popular vote of confidence in the committee ; while by giving to the 
English ministry an erroneous idea that the rebellion was mainly the work of 
the mob, it tended still more strongly to fortify them in the fatal policy of 
coercion. 

On the 10th of August the Massachusetts delegates set out for Philadelphia, 



1774. ] MEETING OF THE DELEGA TES A T PHILADELPHIA. 337 

and were received with enthusiasm in the different towns in their way. By i 
the 4th of September all the delegates from the colonies had assembled, except 
those from North Carolina, who did not arrive till ten days afterwards ; and 
on the 5th the congress commenced its session. The number of its mem- 
bers Avas fifty-one, among Avhom the following, for ever illustrious in the 
American annals, deserve especial mention. They Avere Peyton Randolph, 
Kichard H. Lee, Patrick Henry, and George Washington, from Virginia ; 
Samuel Adams and John Adams, from Massachusetts ; Henry Middleton and 
John Kutledge, from South Carolina ; John Jay, of New York ; and WHliam 
Livingston, of New Jersey. 

The greater part of the delegates were men of property and consideration 
in their respective States, all animated with the same patriotic spirit, though 
differing widely among themselves as to the measures to adopt in the crisis 
which had summoned them together. It was determined, that each colony 
should have but one vote, that their session should be held with closed 
doors, and their transactions kept secret. Peyton Randolph was unanimously 
elected president, and Charles Thompson, secretary. They were then at 
liberty to commence their momentous deliberations, which were to decide upon 
the destinies of America. 

" The most eminent men of the various colonies were now," says Wirt, 
'' for the first time brought together, known to each other by fame, but 
personally strangers. The meeting was awfully solemn. The object which 
had called them together was of incalculable magnitude. The liberties of no 
less than three millions of people, with that of all their posterity, was staked 
on the wisdom and energy of their counsels. No wonder, then, at the long 
and deep silence which is said to have followed upon their organization ; at the 
anxiety with which the members looked round upon each other ; and the re- 
luctance which every individual felt to open a business so fearfully momentous. 
In the midst of this deep and death-like silence, and just Avhcn it was begin- 
ning to become ^painfully embarrassing, Mr. Henry arose slowly, as if borne 
down by the weight of the subject. After faltering, according to his habit, 
through a most impressive exordium, in which he merely echoed back the 
conscioiisness of every other heart, in deploring his inability to do justice to 
the occasion, he launched gradually into a recital of the colonial wrongs. 
Rising, as he advanced, with the grandeur of his subject, and glowing at 
length with all the majesty of the occasion, his speech seemed more than that 
of mortal man. Mr. Henry was followed by Mr. Richard Henry Lee, in a 
speech scarcely less powerful, and still more replete with classic eloquence. 
One spirit of ardent love of liberty pervaded every breast, and produced an 
unanimity as advantageous to the cause they advocated as it was unexpected 
and appalling to their adversaries." 

On receiving the resolutions of the Massachusetts convention, congress 
resolved that they were entirely legitimate, and that every person who should 
accept any office under the new and illegal form of government " ought to be 
held in abhorrence, and considered the wicked tool of that despotism which 

2 X 



338 PBOCELDINGS OF THE FIRST CONGRESS. [1774. 

was preparing to destroy those rights which God, nature, and compact 
had given to America. To define these rights a committee of two from each 
province was appointed to draw np a series of resolutions, which were ratified 
by the whole congress. These were declared to consist in the enjoyment of 
life, liberty, and property ; the privilege of submitting to no law which they 
had not consented to by their representatives. The sole legislative power was 
declared to belong to the colonial assemblies, but the right of enacting laws 
for the honajide regulation of trade was conceded, unless for the purpose of 
raising taxes, either internal or external. Trial by a local jury, and the right of 
public meetings and petitions, were also claimed. A protest was made against 
standing armies maintained in the colonies without their consent. Immunities 
hitherto enjoyed by the colonies, whether by charter or custom, were claimed 
as rights, which the mother country could not abrogate. They then pro- 
ceeded to enumerate those Acts " adopted since the late war, which demon- 
strated a system formed to enslave America. These were — the Sugar Act, 
the Stamp Act, the two Quartering Acts, the Tea Act, the Act suspending 
the New York Legislature, the Acts for transmitting offenders to England 
for trial, the Boston Port Bill, the Act for regulating the government of 
Massachusetts, and lastly, the Quebec Act. " To these grievous acts and 
measures," they proceed to say, " America cannot submit ; but in hopes their 
fellow countrymen in Great Britain will, on a revision of them, restore us to 
that state in which both countries found happiness and prosperity, we have, 
for the present, only resolved to pursue the following jDcaceable measures : 
1. To enter into a non-importation association. 2. To prepare an address to 
the people of Great Britain, and a memorial to the inhabitants of British 
America. And, 3. To prepare a loyal address to his Majesty. 

To give effect to the first of these resolutions, an agreement called the 
'' American Association," was signed by all the members of congress, pledging 
them to a total commercial non-intercourse with Great Britain, Ireland, and 
the West Indies. The importation of slaves was expressly prohibited. 
Domestic maniifactures were also to be encouraged ; and to watch over the 
carrying out of these resolutions, committees were to be appointed to detect 
and publish the names of all such as infringed them, who were to be held 
as " enemies of American liberty," and with whom all dealings were in con- 
sequence to be broken off. 

The address to the people of Great Britain was draAvn up by John Jay. 
After enumerating the grievances of which the Americans complained, it 
alludes in the following energetic style to the prejudices commonly entertain- 
ed against them. " You have been told," say they, '' that we are seditious, 
impatient of government, and desirous of independency. Be assm-ed that 
these are not facts, but calumnies. Permit us to be as free as yourselves, 
and we shall ever esteem a union with you to be our greatest glory and our 
greatest happiness ; we shall ever be ready to contribute all in our power to 
the welfare of the whole empire ; we shall consider your enemies as our ene- 
mies, and your interest as our own. But if you are determined that your 



1774.] ADDRESS OF CONGRESS TO THE KING. 339 

ministers shall wantonly sport with the rights of mankind ; if neither the 
voice of justice, the dictates of the law, the principles of the constitution, or 
the suggestions of humanity, can restrain your hands from shedding human 
blood in subh an impious cause, we must then tell you, that we will never 
submit to be hewers of wood or drawers of water for any ministry or nation 
in the world." 

The address to the king was the work of Dickenson, and abounds in pro- 
fessions of loyalty which, if they may be deemed inconsistent with the acts of 
congress, were in themselves perfectly sincere. " Permit us then, most grr 
cious sovereign, in the name of all your faithful people in America, with th*. 
utmost humility to implore you, for the honour of Almighty God, whose pure 
religion our enemies are undermining ; for your glory, which can be advanced 
only by rendering your subjects happy, and keeping them imited ; for the 
interests of your family, depending on an adherence to the principles that 
enthroned it ; for the safety and welfare of your kingdoms and dominions, 
threatened with almost unavoidable dangers and distresses ; that your INIa- 
jesty, as the loving father of your whole people, connected by the same bonds 
of law, loyalty, faith, and blood, though dwelling in various countries, will 
not suifer the transcendent relation formed by these ties to be further violated, 
in uncertain expectations of effects that, if obtained, never can compensate for 
the calamities through which they must be gained." 

The address to the inhabitants of Canada, also drawn up by Dickenson, 
striving to awaken them to a joint resistance, could not fail to give the deepest 
offence to the ministry, and was, besides, entirely unsuccessful in its object. 

Such were the principal measures of the first continental congress, and they 
were not carried without much opposition and controversy. " Every man in 
this assembly," wrote John Adams to his wife, " is a great man, an orator, 
a critic, a statesman, and therefore every man, upon every question, must show 
his oratory, his criticism, and his political abilities. The consequence is, that 
business is spun out to an immeasurable length." Great difference besides 
existed as to the extent to which resistance to Great Britain should be carried, 
and as to the hopes of a final accommodation. The Adamses, who had borne 
\}ie brunt of the struggle in Massachusetts, despaired. Lee was very sanguine. 
" We shall undoubtedly carry all our points," he said. " You will be com- 
pletely relieved, all the offensive Acts will be repealed, the army and the fleet 
will be recalled, and Britain will give up her foolish projects. Others, among 
whom was Washington, had little faith in petitions and remonstrances, and 
Gadsden from South Carolina even proposed to attack Gage and drive him at 
once from Boston. Thus, as Guizot well observes, " Men of very different 
dispositions met together. Some full of respect and attachment to the mother 
country, others passionately absorbed in that American fatherland which was 
rising under their eyes and by their hands ; the former grieved and anxious, 
the latter daring and confident, but all governed and united by the same 
feeling of dignity, a like resolve of resistance, giving free play to the variety 
of their ideas and fancies, 'Avithout any lasting or wide division occurring be- 

2x2 



340 WASHINGTON'S POSITION IN CONGRESS. [1774. 

tween them. On the contrary, respecting one another in their reciprocal 
liberty, and discussing the great affair of the country together with conscienti- 
ous respect, with that spii-it of mutual deference and of justice, which assures 
success and makes its purchase less costly." The secrecy which veiled the 
debates concealed thcii- differences from the eye of the public, who looked up 
to them as men upon whom was worthily imposed the task of extricating their 
country from her difficulties, and regarded their recommendations as having all 
the force of law. 

This session of congress had the effect of introducing to each other's per- 
sonal knowledge the most eminent men in America, and of preparing them to 
act in concert. One of the members was Joseph Galloway, who afterwards be- 
came a royalist, and has given some glimpses of the personages behind the scenes. 
Of Samuel Adams he says, " He eats little, drinks little, sleeps little, thinks 
much, and is most indefatigable in the pursuit of his object. It was this man 
who, by his superior application, managed at once the factions in congress and 
the factions of New England." No one however made greater progress in the 
estimation of his fellow members than Washington, although far from being 
among the most prominent debaters. It is said that shortly after the return of 
the members, Patrick Henry was asked whom he thought the greatest man in 
congress. " If you speak of eloquence," he replied, " Mr. Rutledge of South 
Carolina is by far the greatest orator ; but if you speak of solid information 
and sound judgment, ' Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest 
man on that floor." 

Congress adjourned a session of four months. The firmness and dignity of 
their proceedings, and the style of the state papers they put forth, were justly 
regarded as extraordinary. " When your Lordshij)s," said Pitt to the British 
senate, " have perused the papers transmitted to us from America, when you 
consider the dignity, the firmness, and the wisdom with which Americans 
have acted, you cannot but respect their cause. History, my Lords, has been 
my favourite study, and in the celebrated writings of antiquity, I have often 
admired the patriotism of Greece and Rome ; but, my Lords, I must declare and 
avow that, in the master states of the world, I know not the people nor the 
senate who, in such a complication of difficult circumstances, can stand in pre- 
ference to the delegates of America assembled in general congress at Phila- 
delphia. I trust it is obvious to your Lordships, that all attempts to impose 
servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty conti- 
nental nation, must be vain — must be futile." 

In almost all the colonies power had already fallen from the hands of the royal 
governors, into that of provincial assemblies acting independently of them. 
Gage had convoked a general court of representatives to meet at Salem, but 
fearing the spirit which animated the people, had judged it more prudent to 
countermand it. The delegates however insisted that the governor had no right 
to remand them, and after waiting a whole day for his appearance, resolved 
themselves into a provincial congress, and adjourned to Concord. John 
Hancock was chosen as their president. Hence they despatched an address 



1774.] INSTITUTION OF THE "MINUTE MEN.'' 341 

to Gage, still ardent in protestations of loyalty to the Mng, but complaining of 
the recent Acts of Parliament, and particularly of the fortifications recently 
erected at Boston. Gage replied with some Avarmth, that he had no inten- 
tion of invading their liberties ; but when threats, of open resistance were 
every where rife, and military companies were abeady forming, he could not 
renounce his defensive preparations. He expressed a wish for reconcili- 
ation, and earnestly required them to desist from their illegal proceedings. 
Far from listening to his advice, the Massachusetts congress, now adjourned 
to Cambridge, proceeded to organize a Committee of Safety, with power to call 
out the militia, together with a Committee of Defence, empowered to raise 
money for the supply of military stores. The tax-gatherers were required to 
pay the taxes into the hands of the congress. In a subsequent session they 
voted a levy of twelve thousand men, one fourth of whom were to be called 
" minute men," from their holding themselves ready to march at a mo- 
ment's notice. Jedediah Preble, an old officer of the militia, Seth Pomeroy, 
who had fought at the battle of Lake George, with Artemas Ward, a civilian, 
were commissioned as generals. It was determined, however, that the British 
should not be attacked, unless they proved the first aggressors by marching 
into the interior of the country. A circular was also sent round to the clergy, 
urging them to use their influence in animating the spirit of the peoj)le, to 
which, for the most part, they heartily responded. The position of Gage be- 
came every day more critical. He was virtually shut up in Boston, and even 
there he had no support but in the military and government officials. The 
winter was approaching, and he was unable to procure materials to erect 
quarters for his soldiers. The straAV he had purchased was set on fire, his 
timber seized, and so great was the detestation of the people, that he was un- 
able to procure either workmen, clothing, or provisions. 

At Newport, Rhode Island, the people removed from the public battery 
forty pieces of cannon, and when Captain Wallace, on his return from a cruise, 
called upon Governor Wanton to demand the meaning of this act, the latter 
frankly avowed to him that " it had been done to prevent them falling into the 
hands of the king, or any of his servants, and that they meant to make use of 
it against any poAver that should offer to molest them." This happened in 
consequence of the receipt of a royal proclamation, prohibiting the export of 
military stores to America. This proclamation was forwarded from Boston, 
by Paul Pevere, one of the most active patriots, to the committee at Ports- 
mouth, who were not slow to act upon the hint, for the day after Eevere's 
arrival, a large body collected and took forcible possession of Fort William 
Mary, broke open the powder-house, and carried away all the powder and 
ammunition in the place. 

With the sole exception of Georgia, Avhere the influence of the governor 
prevailed, the rest of the colonies warmly approved and sanctioned the re- 
commendations of the colonial congress, and copied the example of the Massa- 
chusetts convention. In Maryland, the popular convention had assumed all 
the powers of government, and called out the militia. South Carolina had 



342 THE QUAKERS DECLARE THEIR LOYALTY. [1774. 

acted in the same way. Greater diiference of feeling was manifested in Phila- 
delphia, where the Quaker party put forth a " testimony " at their annual 
meeting, in which their members were called upon to " unite in abhorrence of 
every measure and writing tending to break off the happy connexion of the 
colonies with the mother country, or to interrupt their just submission to the 
king." Such might be regarded as the general language of the royalists, or 
Tory party, numbering in that city a large proportion of the wealthier inhabit- 
ants. On the other hand, those citizens, dissatisfied with the tone adopted 
by the assembly of representatives, formed a convention in which they 
declared it to be their duty " to defend the rights and liberties of America by 
force." In New York, where the royalist and Episcopalian influence was very 
strong, the assembly declined to sanction the measures of congress, though 
they forwarded to Burke, their agent, petitions to parliament scarcely less 
decided in their tenor. Notwithstanding these local differences, never perhaps 
was there a people so united in their opposition to a foreign power. To quote 
the language of Dr. Warren, already cited as one of the most ardent advocates 
of colonial liberty, and destined unhappily to prove among its earliest sacri- 
fices : " It is the united voice of America, to jDreserve their freedom or lose 
their lives in defence of it. Their resolutions are not the results of inconsider- 
ate rashness, but the sound result of sober inquiry and deliberation. I am 
convinced that the true spirit of liberty was never so universally diffused 
through all ranks and orders of people, in any country on the face of the 
earth, as it now is through all North America." 

Of the state of things in Boston at this period a lively picture is given by 
Botta. " The garrison was formidable, the fortifications imposing, so that there 
was little hope of wresting the city from the hands of the British. Nor could 
the inhabitants flatter themselves with the hope of escaping by sea, inasmuch 
as the harbour was blockaded by a squadron. Shut up thus in the midst of 
an irritated soldiery, the citizens beheld themselves exposed to all the outrage 
that might be dreaded from military licence. Their city was become for them 
a confined prison, and they themselves but hostages in the hands of the Eng- 
lish general. This consideration was alone sufficient to embarrass all the 
military and civil operations projected by the Americans. Various means 
were proposed to extricate them from so cruel a position, and if they displayed 
no very great prudence, they gave proof at least of extraordinary determina- 
tion. Some persons suggested that all the inhabitants should evacuate the 
city, to take refuge in other places, where they should be maintained at the 
common expense. But this was impracticable, since it was open to General 
Gage to opipose its being carried out. Certain individuals then proposed that 
the houses and furniture of the inhabitants should be valued, and the city set 
on fire, these losses to be paid for out of the jDublic treasury. After a grave 
inquiry, this project was decided to be not only very difficult, but even hn- 
possible to execute. Nevertheless, many of the inhabitants quitted the city 
by stealth, and retired into the interior of the country, some out of disgust at 
che sort of captivity in which they were held, others for fcai' of imminent 



1775.] ATTEMPT TO SEIZE THE STORES AT CONCORD. 343 

hostilities, or lastly, in the apprehension that they might be dragged before a 
court of justice as criminals of state. Still a great number determined not to 
stir out of Boston, and to brave all hazards, whatever they might be. The 
soldiers of the garrison, weary of seeing themselves shut up, demanded to 
be led against the rebels who intercepted their provisions, and for whom they 
entertained the most supreme contempt. The people of Massachusetts, on 
their jiart, were indignant at hearing themselves accused of cowardice by the 
soldiers, and longed for an opportunity of proving by some signal revenge, the 
falsity of such reproaches." The wished-for opportunity was not long in 
presenting itself. General Gage had already sent to seize some military stores 
at Salem, when a collision was with difficulty prevented. He now received 
information that another supply had been deposited at Concord, distant about 
eighteen miles from Boston. Every possible precaution had been taken by the 
patriots against a sudden surprise. At Charlestown, Cambridge, and Box- 
bury men were stationed to keep an eye upon the movement of the troops, 
signals were agreed upon, and expresses kept ready to carry information into 
the country. In Boston itself there were always persons ready to penetrate 
the designs of the general, who was driven to all sorts of expedients in order 
to disguise his plans. Samuel Adams and John Hancock had been obliged to 
retire to Lexington, and the painful divisions Avhich agitated society are well 
illustrated by the fact, that the former received a private message from a 
" daughter of liberty," herself the wife of a royalist, that an expedition was 
shortly expected, warning them to look to their personal safety. On the 18th 
of April General Gage sent out a party of officers, ostensibly to dine and spend 
the day in amusement at Cambridge, but Avho, when night came on, dis- 
persed themselves on the road to Lexington and Concord, ready to intercept 
any expresses who might be sent to give notice of his designs. A body of 
troops was then secretly got ready, who embarking about eleven at night at 
the foot of Boston common, crossed the river Charles, and landing at Phipps' 
farm in Cambridge, marched on rapidly and silently towards Concord. But 
the patriots were on the alert, for Dr. Warren, who received notice of the ex- 
pedition only just before the embarkation of the troops, hurried off several 
expresses ; and though some were intercepted, one of them succeeded in eluding 
the patrols, and speedily raised the alarm, which, by the firing of signal guns 
and the ringing of church bells, and volleys of musketry, flew rapidly over 
hill and dale until ihe whole country-side was fully aroused. 

It was about five in the morning when the troops marched into Lexington. 
A body of about seventy minute-men had assembled upon the green in front 
of the church to oppose their further progress. It was a critical moment, 
most trying to the courage of the colonists. The bravery of the British troops 
was proverbial — they were the victors in a thousand fights ; a secret feeling of 
their inferiority to them, as mere soldiers, might well have lurked at the bottom 
of every patriot's heart at that decisive moment ; yet they determined to make 
a st.md, and perish as an example to their countrymen. The little band stood 
firm while Major Pitcairn, riding forAvard, exclaimed in a threatening voice. 



344 THE ''MINUTE MEN'' FLY TO ARMS. [1775. 

*' Disperse, you rebels! throw down your arms and disperse." Notbeing attended 
to, he discharged his pistol and ordered his men to fire. The order was instantly 
obeyed ; several of the militia fell dead ; the others retired, returning the fire 
of the soldiers ; but as the latter advanced, scattered and fled on all sides. 
This was the first resistance offered by the Americans, and it showed what 
stuff" they were made of, and by what spirit they were animated. " One of the 
victims, Jonas Parker, had been heard to say, that, be the consequences what 
they might, and let others do as they please, he would never run from the 
enemy. He was as good as his word — better. Having loaded his musket, 
he placed his hat containing his ammunition on the ground before his feet, 
in readiness for a second charge. At the second fire he was wounded, and sunk 
on his knees, and in this condition discharged his gun, Wliile loading it again 
upon his knees, and striving in the agonies of death to redeem his pledge, he 
was transfixed by a bayonet, and thus died on the spot where he stood and fell." 
After assembling on the green, and firing off* three volleys in triumph over 
the militia, the troops now marched on to Concord. The minute-men of that 
place had assembled on a hill in front of the meeting-house, but seeing the 
strong force by which they were threatened, they crossed the bridge to another 
rising ground in the rear of the town. The bridge was immediately seized 
by the troops and a strong guard posted there, while another was detached 
into the town to destroy the stores, which they successfully accomplished, dis- 
abling two cannon, throwing a quantity of ball into the rivers and wells, and 
breaking in pieces about sixty barrels of flour. While they were thus en- 
gaged the militia on the hill were receiving reinforcements, and Major But- 
trick of Concord came forward to lead them against the enemy, carefully warn- 
ing them however not to fire unless first fired upon. They descended the hill 
and advanced towards the bridge, the planks of which were being removed by 
the English soldiers. As Buttrick approached, he remonstrated with a loud tone 
against this proceeding, and ordered his men to quicken their step. Seeing 
that the Americans were determined to pass the bridge, the soldiers fired a 
volley into the'ir midst, and one or two of them fell dead on the spot. On 
this Buttrick loudly exclaimed to his men — " Fire, fellow soldiers, for God's 
sake, fire!" The order flew with electric speed along the American line, 
and Avas re-echoed by hundreds of voices. The citizens fired, and hurry- 
ing over the bridge, pursued the English, who immediately commenced a 
precipitate retreat. By this time the country was fully aroused, the militia- 
men seemed, to use the words of an English officer, " to drop from the 
clouds." The farmer left his plough, and ran for his gun, and from every 
quarter the minute-men sAvarmed down to the road-side, lining the hedges, 
posting themselves in nooks and corners, harassing at once the front, flank, 
and rear of their retreating enemies, and picking them off at advantage, as 
they hurriedly retreated towards Lexington. Suffering most severely from 
this galling fire, exhausted by the heat and dust, their leader Avounded, 
and disorder rapidly increasing, it is probable the whole detachment would 
have been cut off, had not Gage most opportunely happened to despatch to 



1775.] THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON, 345 

theii sujjport a column of nine hundred men under the command of Lord 
Percy, with a couple of pieces of artillery, who, as the fugitives reached Lex- 
ington, formed his troops into a hollow square to receive them. Exhausted by 
their long march, the tired soldiers lay down for rest on the ground, their 
tongues hanging out of then- mouths, like those of hounds after a chase. 
The artillery kept the assailants at bay, and as soon as the men had recovered 
a little from their fatigue, the retreat recommenced in perfect order, Percy 
throwing out flanking parties to cover his main body. But it was like run- 
ning tlie gauntlet the whole way ; the numbers of the minute-men continually 
increased, and acquainted as they were with the best vantage ground, and all 
of them excellent marksmen, they kept up an irregular but deadly fire upon 
the retreating soldiers, three hundred of whom were killed or wounded. The 
main body, almost exhausted with fatigue, at length, after a march of five and 
tliirty miles, reached Bunker HiU at sun-set, and encamped for the night, 
under cover of the ships of war in the river. The next day they crossed over 
into the city. 

Such was the issue of this momentous skirmish, the melancholy forerunner of 
a long and sanguinary war. The royal troops were desperately chagrined at 
being compelled to retreat before a crowd of undisciplined and, as they had 
hitherto regarded them, contemptible Yankees. On the other hand, the Ameri- 
cans had discovered that the boasted English troops were not invincible, and 
their courage and determination were elevated to an enthusiastic pitch. Both 
parties however strove to cast on each other the blame of having first pro- 
ceeded to extremities. General Gage had given express orders that the troops 
should fire only in case they were attacked. The English affirmed that the 
Lexington militia fired first, which, though their withstanding the progress of 
the king's troops could not be construed into any thing short of an overt act of 
hostility, was certainly not the case. Both parties reproached each other 
moreover with horrible instances of cruelty. The Massachusetts convention, 
being then in session, despatched a special packet to England to prove that 
the troops had fij'ed first. It was accompanied with an address to the people 
of Great Britain, in which, appealing to HeaYen for the justice of their cause, 
they declare their intention to die or to be free ; and while still professing 
loyalty to the king, express their determination " not tamely to submit to the 
persecution and tyranny of his evil ministry." This address was committed 
to Franklin, upon whom, as their agent, its publication devolved ; but deeply 
wounded at the treatment he had personally received, and finding that aU 
hopes of reconciliation were likely to prove abortive, he had already set sail 
on his return to Philadelphia. 

The news of the afiair of Lexington— the first blood shed in the defence of 
liberty upon the American soil, produced an extraordinary excitement, vary- 
ing of course according to the feelings and convictions of its recipients. By 
the more ardent patriots, secretly anxious to throw off the allegiance of 
England, it was welcomed as the signal of a deadly and incurable quarrel ; and 
by those who yet hoped for a reconciliation with the parent country, it was, 

2 T 



346 THE MINISTERS EXGOVR AGE THE PATRIOTS. [1775. 

for the same reason, regarded with unfeigned sorrow and alarm. The ge- 
neral effect was incontestably to inflame the ardent and to confirm the timid, 
to unite all classes in a feeling of intense bitterness towards the ministers who, 
by their criminal obstinacy, had stained the once happy plains of America with 
the blood of her own citizens, and to give a great impulse towards the growing 
desire for independence. These feelings cannot be better expressed than in a 
letter written not long afterwards by Franklin, who, after his ineffectual at- 
tempts at conciliation, had recently returned from England, and been 
chosen a member of the Pennsylvania assembly, to his old friend Strahan, 
the king's printer, with whom, during his sojourn in London, he had been 
upon terms of intimate and playfal familiarity. To his old companion, a 
steady supporter of Lord North's administration, he now writes in the follow- 
ing indignant strain : " You are a member of parliament, and one of that 
majority which has doomed my country to destruction. You have begun to 
burn our towns and murder our people. Look upon your hands ! They are 
stained with the blood of your relations ! You and I were long friends — you 
are now my enemy, and I am yours." If one of the most pacific of human 
beings, and who detested war alike upon moral and economical principles, 
could be thus exasperated by that oppression which makes the wise man mad, 
we may easily conceive what must have been the feelings of the more ardent 
and excitable of the people. 

Scarcely had the news of the battle arrived, when a great pxiblic meeting 
was held at Philadelphia, at which, in spite of the more pacific of the citi- 
zens, a volunteer military association was formed, towards the expenses of 
which the assembly, which met shortly after, voted a cou'siderable sum. 
The solemn sanction of religion was also given by the clergy to the cause of 
American liberty. It has been already observed, that the Congregationalist 
ministers of New England were extremely jealous of the introduction of Epis- 
copalianism, and a project of this kind, with which they had been .recently 
threatened, had given equal alarm and offence. Justly regarding the cause 
of civil and religious liberty as identical, they were easily induced to throw 
the weight of their influence into the popular scale. The Presbyterians 
j'/iturally sympathized with the Congregationalists in a traditionary dislike to 
'Jclq. predominance of English influence, with which Episcopalianism was natur- 
ally identified. Accordingly, after the affair of Lexington, which was regarded 
as an act of overt hostility, the synods of New York and Philadelphia published 
a pastoral letter, which was read in all the churches, and produced an immense 
influence on the minds of the people. Hitherto, they declared, not willing to 
be instruments of discord between the colonists and their brethren, they had 
abstained from pronouncing an opinion ; but now, in the altered state of affairs, 
they declared that they could no longer hesitate in counselling their flocks to 
take up arms, under the full belief that the cause of oppressed America was the 
cause of Heaven. Some attempt at conciliation was made by John Penn, one 
of the descendants of the great founder of Pennsylvania, and the last of the 
roval "'ovcrnors of that state. In obedience to his instructions he laid before 



1755.] BENEDICT ARNOLD OFFERS HIS SERVICES. 347 

the assen .bly the proposition of Lord North, observing " that, as being the first 
assembly to whom it had been communicated, they would deservedly be re- 
vered by the latest posterity, if by any means they could be instrumental in 
restoring public tranquillity, and rescuing both countries from the horrors of 
a civil war<" They refused however to adopt it, even should it prove to be 
unexceptionable, without the advice and consent of their sister colonies, who, 
united by just motives and mutual faith, were guided by general councils. 

TJie Massachusetts congress now proceeded to improve the recent success, 
and give a profitable and permanent direction to the martial spirit of the 
people, by the formation of twenty-seven regiments, consisting of thirteen thou- 
sand men, and by calling upon the neighbouring States to make up the num- 
ber to thirty thousand ; an appeal that was responded to Avith spirit. Volunteer 
companies were formed, some of .hem under the command of men who after- 
wards became famous in the progress of the war. Conspicuous among these 
was the fiery and impetuous Benedict Arnold, who combined the trades of a 
druggist and bookseller — " from London," who was at that time captain of the 
governor of Connecticut's guards, at Newhaven. No sooner did the news of 
the skirmish at Lexington reach that place, than Arnold, leaving to others the 
custody of his books and gallipots, summoned his corps and proposed to start 
instantly for a more congenial scene of action. About forty of his company con- 
sented to go. Arnold then requested the town authorities to furnish him with 
ammunition, sending in Avord that if the keys were not delivered to him in five 
minutes, he would break in and help himself. The keys were delivered, the 
ammunition secured, and Arnold marched off with his corps to Cambridge, 
where its discipline was so superior that it was selected to deliver to General 
Gage the body of a British officer who had died of wounds received at Lex- 
ington. Another kindred spirit was Colonel Ethan Allen, who had emigrated 
from Connecticut to Vermont, and had taken a prominent part in the disputes 
that arose between the settlers and the State of New York. He was a tall, 
sinewy man, a perfect dare-devil in courage, of fervid patriotism, with a 
wild, eccentric enthusiasm peculiar to himself. A singular story is related 
of him by Eivington, the king's printer, who was one of the politest men in 
Boston, and highly fashionable in his dress, — wore curled and powdered hair, 
claret-coloured coat, scarlet waistcoat trimmed with gold lace, buck-skin 
breeches, and top-boots ; and he kept the best society. As a royalist, he greatly 
despised the rebels, and had made some remarks in his journal which so irritated 
Ethan Allen that he threatened " ro chastise him for it on the first opportunity." 
" I was sitting," says E-ivington, " after a good dinner alone, with my bottle of 
Madeira before me, when I heard an unusual noise in the street, and a huzza 
from the boys. I was in the second story, and, stepping to the window, saw 
a tall Jigiire in tarnislied regimentals, with a large cocked hat and an enor- 
mous long sword, followed by "a crowd of boys, who occasionally cheered him 
with huzzas, of which he seemed insensible. He came up to my door and 
stopped. I could see no more. My heart told me it was Ethan Allen. I 
shut down my window, and retired behind my table and bottle. I was cer- 

2 T 2 



348 ETHAN- ALLEN AND JAMES RIVINGTON. [1775. 

tain the hour of reckoning had come. There was no retreat. Mr. Staples, my 
clerk, came in paler than ever, and clasping his hands, said, ' Master, he is 
come ! ' * I know it.' ' He entered the store and asked ' if James liivington 
lived there.' I answered, * Yes, sir.' ' Is he at home ? ' ' I will go and see, sir,' 
I said. And now, master, what is to be done ? There he is in the store, and the 
hoys peeping at him from the street.' I had made up my mind. I looked at 
the bottle of Madeira — possibly took a glass. ' Show him up,' said I ; ' and if 
such Madeira cannot mollify him, he must be harder than adamant.* There 
was a fearful moment of suspense. I heard him on the stairs, his long sword 
clanking at every step. In he stalked. ' Is your name James Rivington ? ' ' It 
is, sir, and no man could be more happy than I am to see Colonel Ethan Allen.' 

* Sir, I have come — ' ' Not another word, my dear colonel, until you have 
taken a seat and a glass of old Madeira.' * But, sir, I don't think it proper — ' 

* Not another word, colonel. Taste this wine ; I have had it in glass for ten 
years. Old wine, you know, unless it is originally sound, never improves by 
age.' He took the glass,- swallowed the wine, smacked his lips, and shook his 
head approvingly. ' Sir, I come — ' * Not another word until you have taken 
another glass, and then, my dear colonel, we will talk of old affairs, and I 
have some droll events to detail.' In short, Ave finished two bottles of Ma- 
deira, and parted as good friends as if we never had cause to be otherwise." 
Such was this gunpowder captain, whom nothing but wine could mollify. 
Putnam too, who, as we have already seen, had served with great distinction 
during the Canadian wars, and now a veteran of sixty-five, hastened from his 
plough to join the insurgents. Another body of volunteers from Ehode 
Island also repaired to the camp under the command of Nathaniel Greene, a 
young Quaker, but of too warlike a turn of mind to prove an acceptable 
member of that community. He was appointed a brigadier-general, and 
afterwards became one of the most celebrated of the continental chiefs. By 
the junction of these different forces Boston was soon invested by an army of 
twenty thousand men, who, irregular as they were in discipline, had given 
abundant proof they were no longer to be regarded as contemptible opponents. 

Arnold and Allen speedily found an opportunity of displaying their enthu- 
siastic daring. In full -nticipation of a struggle, Samuel Adams and Dr. 
Warren had sent an agent into Canada to sound the temper of the people. 
He reported that they were but little disposed to join the Americans, and 
counselled the surprise of Ticondcroga upon the earliest outbreak of hostility. 
The enterprise was secretly concocted, and Allen, with a body of " Green 
Motlntain boys " from Vermont, was joined near Lake Champlain by a number 
of other volunteers. Arnold, burning to distinguish himself, and having, it is 
supposed, got wind of the intended expedition, contrived to obtain the com- 
mand of it from the provincial congress, and hurried down to the scene of action, 
but on producing his commission found, to his great chagrin, that the fellow 
mountaineers of Allen refused to follow any other leader than himself. Re- 
solved to share in the glory of the enterprise if he could not assume its com- 
mand, Arnold then attached himself to the expedition in the capacity of a 



1775.] CAPTURE OF TICONDEBOGA AND CROWN POINT. 349 

simple volunteer. The whole body now marched, down to the shores of the 
lake opposite to Ticonderoga, where, as no attack was dreamed of, the vigil- 
ance of the garrison was very greatly relaxed ; and a guide being found Avho 
was acquainted with every secret way about the fortress, Allen and Ai'nold 
crossed over during the night with about eighty of their men, the rest being 
unable to follow them for want of a supply of boats. Landed under the walls 
of the fort, they found their position extremely critical ; the dawn was begin- 
ning to break, and unless they could succeed in instantly surprising the gar- 
rison, they ran themselves the most imminent risk of capture. Ethan Allen did 
not hesitate a moment, but, drawing up his men, briefly explained to them the 
position of affairs, and then, with Arnold by his side, hurried up immediately 
to the sally-port. The sentinel snapped his fusee at them, and rushing into 
the fort, the Americans followed close at his heels, and entering the open 
parade, awoke the sleeping garrison with a tremendous shout of triumph. 
The English soldiers started from their beds, hvirried on their arms and rushed 
below, and were immediately taken prisoners and obliged to capitulate. 

Meanwhile Allen, attended by his guide, hurried up to the chamber of the 
commandant, Captain La Place, who was in bed with his wife, and knocking at 
his door with the hilt of his huge sword, ordered him in a stentorian voice to 
make his instant appearance, or the entire garrison should immediately be 
put to death. To the commandant, just awakened, all this seemed like a 
dream, and as he opened the door, but half dressed, Avith his terrified wife 
peeping over his shoulder, he authoritatively demanded the meaning of this 
incomprehensible summons. " I order you instantly to surrender," roared 
Allen. "But by what authority do you demand it?" inquired the bewildered 
officer. " In the name of the Great Jehovah and the continental congress, 
by G — d," was the thundering reply : to which Allen gave additional em- 
phasis by flourishing his long sword to and fro like a madman above La 
Place's head. The latter knew not what to make of it, but had no alter- 
native but to give up the place to his combustible captor ; and the fort and 
stores were accordingly surrendered. Another body followed up this success 
by surprising Crown Point. The continental congress, which had then but just 
opened its second session, and in whose name Allen had boldly captured the 
fortress, had as little expected as they had authorized this achievement : 
they gave orders that the cannon and stores should be removed to the south 
end of Lake George, and an exact inventory of them taken, " in order 
that they may be safely returned when the restoration of harmony between 
Great Britain and the colonies, so ardently desired by the latter, shall i-ender 
it prudent and consistent with the overpowering law of self-preservation." It 
is unnecessary to say that that period was never destined to arrive. .^ 

The state of American affairs about the opening of parliament was justly 
regarded with the greatest anxiety, both by the government, the opposition, 
and the people at large. " It had been hoped," says Botta, " and the ministers 
themselves had confidently predicted, that the recent enactments, and espe- 
cially the troops that were sent over to the colonies, would promptly extin- 



850 0PP0SITI02T TO THE HOME GOVEENMEKT. [1775. 

guish sedition, and reduce the factious to obedience. It was not dotibtcd but 
that the partisans of the royal cause, encouraged by the presence of the 
soldiers, ■would display great energy, and join themselves to the royal troops, 
in order to establish the authority of government. There was a profound 
conviction that the southern provinces, when they beheld the storm about to 
burst upon them, would not embrace the quarrel of those of the north, and 
it seemed beyond a doubt that the dissensions which divided one from the 
other Avould bring about the submission of the whole. But these hopes had 
been completely frustrated. The popular movements, which at first had been 
but partial, now extended over the whole continent. The governors, far from 
having re-established the royal authority, had been compelled to fly and take 
refuge on board the ships. The Americans, who had been represented as 
trembling and ready to yield, displayed every day increasing strength and 
audacity." 

There is no doubt that the obstinacy of ministers had at first been greatly 
fortified by the belief that the number of the discontented was comparatively 
small, that their leaders were turbulent and unimportant, and that the mass 
of the respectable inhabitants only awaited the display of energy on the part 
of the government in order to throw their influence into the scale and reduce 
the factious to obedience. Nor was this delusion, Avhich continued for a long 
time afterwards to influence the proceedings of government, without some ap- 
pearance of foundation. The royal governors and ofiiciak had always per- 
sisted in holding this language, and besides, the partisans of the English wire 
really very numerous, esjiecially among the more wealthy and influential 
classes. This was known to be more particularly the case in New York and 
the southern provinces. Franklin, it is true, had endeavoured, but -oithout 
effect, to open the eyes of ministers to the truth, but in the disunited state of the 
colonies, and in the prej^onderance of loyalty among the inhabitants, it was 
supposed that a very small display of force would suflice to reduce the dis- 
affected. The British officers, who entertained strong prejudices against the 
colonists, and looked down upon them with a contemptuous feeling of supe- 
riority, boasted, and doubtless believed, that at the head of a few regiments 
they could march triumphantly from one end of America to the other. Ac- 
cordingly, far from sending over a really imposing force, government had 
contented themselves with despatching such a handful of men as, without in- 
timidating the colonists, had only stimulated them to increased opposition; 
and such is the inconsistency of party spirit, that this very reluctance to put 
forth a crushing display of power was now accused by those very members of 
the opposition Avho had been the fij'st to protest against the emplojnnent of 
force. 

A general election had taken place, but the result was decidedly in favour 
of the Tory party, and Lord North and his friends might count upon an 
overwhelming majority. It was by this time fully understood that the king 
was firmly resolved to reduce the rebellious colonists to obedience, and that 
no measures of concession were to be expected from his advisers. We have 



17:4.] EXGLISH GO VERNMENT ASSERTS ITS A UTHORITT. 351 

already remarked, that a conviction to this effect had da^oied slowly on the 
mind of Franklin, and that he had been at first disposed to regard the king as 
under the influence of his ministers, but was now fully convinced that the 
reverse of this was really the case. The pride of the monarch had engaged 
his advisers not to give way, but go on until America Avas reduced to obe- 
dience. In a conversation with Mr. Quincy, who had recently come over 
from Boston, Lord North, after reminding him of the power of England, 
declared his determination to exert it to the utmost in order to effect the sub- 
mission of the colonies. " We must try," said he, " what we can do to sup- 
port the authority we claim over America. If we are defective in power, we 
must sit down contented, and make the best terms we can, and nobody will 
blame us after we have done our utmost, but till we have tried what we can do 
we can never be justified in receding." 

Such was the feeling and policy of the ministry at the opening of the 
session in October, 1774. In his message to parliament, the king declared, 
'' that a most daring spirit of resistance and disobedience to the laws still un- 
happily prevailed in the province of Massachusetts, and had broken forth in 
fresh violences of a very criminal nature; and that these proceedings had been 
countenanced and encouraged in other of his colonies, and unwarrantable 
attempts had been made to obstruct the commerce of his kingdoms by unlaw- 
ful combinations ; and that he had taken such measures and given such orders 
as he judged most proper and effectual for carrying into execution the laws 
which were passed in the last session of the late parliament for the protection 
and security of the commerce of his subjects, and for restoring and preserving 
peace, order, and good government in the province of Massachusetts. The 
usual address in reply to the royal speech, though carried by a large majority, 
was not voted without a very spirited debate. Among the opponents of 
ministerial infatuation on this occasion was the celebrated John Wilkes, the 
leader of the rising popular party, and one of the earliest advocates of that 
so-called radical reform, which is now being gradually carried out in Eng- 
land. Horribly licentious in private life, he was no less the idol of the com- 
mon people. His principles naturally inclined him to espouse the cause of 
the Americans, and in the present instance he delivered himself with unusual 
and prophetic solemnity. After defending the colonists from the charges 
brought against them, and denouncing the measures intended to reduce them 
to obedience, he continued thus : " Whether their present state is that of re- 
bellion, or of a fit and just resistance to the unlawful acts of power, to our 
attempts to rob them of their property and liberties, as they imagine, I shall 
not declare. But I well know what will follow ; nor, however strange and 
harsh it may appear to some, shall I hesitate to announce it, that I may not 
be accused hereafter of having failed in my duty to my country, on so grave 
an occasion, and at the approach of such direful calamities. Know, then, a 
successful resistance is a revolution, not a rebellion. Rebellion, indeed, ap- 
pears on the back of a flying enemy, but revolution flames on the breastplate 
of the victorious warrior. Who can teU, whether in consequence of this day's 



352 DISREGARD OF THE PETITION FROM CONGRESS. [1775. 

violent and mad address to his Majesty, the scabbard may not be thro^^Tl away 
by them as well as by us, and whether in a few years the independent Ameri- 
cans may not celebrate the glorious era of the Revolution of 1775, as we do 
that of 1668. You would declare the Americans rebels, and to your injustice 
and oppression you add the most opprobrious language, and the most insulting 
scoffs. If you persist in your resolution, all hope of a reconciliation is ex- 
tinct. The Americans will triumph, the whole continent of North America 
will be dismembered from Great Britain, and the wide arch of the raised em- 
pire fall. But I hope the just vengeance of the people will overtake the 
authors of these pernicious counsels, and the loss of the first province of the 
empire be speedily followed by the loss of the heads of those ministers who 
first invented them." 

Shortly afterwards, accounts of the proceedings of congress were received in 
England, which, by showing the imminence of the peril, gave increased ve- 
hemence to the feelings and language of the Whig opposition. On the 20th 
of January, the parliament having re-assembled, the venerable Lord Chatham, 
whose increasing infirmities had for a long time kept him absent from the House, 
moved that orders might be despatched to General Gage for the removal of the 
troops from Boston, a proposition which he supported with his accustomed 
earnestness. This motion of Lord Chatham's was seconded by Lord Camden, 
who affirmed that " whenever oppression begins resistance becomes lawful and 
right," and supported by the Marquis of Rockingham and Lord Shelburne, 
but in spite of his utmost efforts was lost by a very large majority. 

Determined to follow out their policy of comjiulsion, the ministry tinned 
a deaf ear not only to the strenuous efforts of the opposition, which they thought 
proper to attribute to party spirit, but also to the numerous petitions floAving 
in from London and other principal cities, which they referred for consider- 
ation to some future committee, well nick -named by the opposition, " a com- 
mittee of oblivion." The petition from the continental congress to the king 
shared the same fate. Franklin, Bollan, and Lee, to whose care it had been 
intrusted, desired to be heard by counsel at the bar of the House, but their 
request was refused on the ground that the congress was an illegal assembly. 

Lord Chatham next introduced a new measure of conciliation, respecting 
which he had consulted Franklin, who, though certain alterations he had 
sketched had not been introduced, was requested by his Lordship to be pre- 
sent at the debates upon it. Franklin accordingly repaired to the bar of the 
House of Lords. The bill provided that no tax should be levied upon the 
Americans without their consent ; but on the other hand it required a full ac- 
knowledgment of the supremacy of parliament, and the voting of a free grant 
to the king of a certain anniial revenue, to be at the disposition of parliament. 
Matters however had now gone too far for such a bill to have been received 
in America, where the claims of the colonists had increased with their suc- 
cessful opposition, even had it passed the House, but it was rejected by a large 
majority on its first reading. Lord Daitniouth, one of the ministers, was at 
first disposed to have the bill lie upon the table, but Lord Sandwich moved 



1775.] MEASURES FOR PACIFYING THE COLONISTS. 353 

that It be immediately " rejected with the contempt it deserved." " lie could 
never believe," he said, " that it was the production of a British peer, it appear- 
ed to him rather the work of some American. He fancied (such were his 
words as he looked round severely upon Franklin) that he had in his eye the 
person who drew it up, one of the bitterest and most mischievous enemies this 
country had ever known." To this invective Lord Chatham replied with 
warmth, that the proposition was entirely his o^vn, but that " were he the first 
minister of this country, and had the care of settling this momentous business, 
he should not be ashamed of publicly calling to his assistance a person so per- 
fectly acquainted Avith the whole of American affairs as the gentleman alluded 
to, and so injuriously reflected on, one whom all Europe held in estimation 
for his loiowledge and wisdom, and ranked with our Boyles and Newtons, 
who was an honour not to the English nation only, but to human nature." 
The utmost efforts of Lord Chatham failed to obtain even a second reading 
for his bill. 

Notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of the opposition, a joint address from 
the Lords and Commons was presented to the king, in which they declared 
''that a REBELLION actually existed in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 
besought his Majesty to adopt measures to enforce the authority of the 
sujDreme legislature, and solemnly assured him that it was their fixed resolution, 
at the hazard of their lives and properties, to stand by him against his re- 
bellious subjects." This declaration the minister shortly folloAved up by a bill 
restraining the commerce of INIassachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, 
and Connecticut to Great Britain and the West Indies, and, what was still 
more cruel, prohibiting these provinces from fishing on the banks of New- 
foundland, an occupation vital to their interests. This proposition gave rise to 
a very animated debate, in the midst of which Lord North surprised both his 
political friends and adversaries by suddenly bringing forward a measure ap- 
parently conciliatory, and perhaps intended to be so, differing in substance but 
little from that of Chatham, but more vague and cautiously worded. It pro- 
vided that, so long as the colonial assemblies should voluntarily furnish such 
sums as were required for the government in defence of the colony, to be dis- 
posable by parliament, and satisfactory to that body and the king, the right of 
taxation should be waived by government, except in regard to the external 
regiilation of commerce. Pressed by the objections of his party, who com- 
plained that his measure conceded the very point in dispute, Lord North was 
forced to declare, in order to pacify them, that it really conceded nothing, and 
was designed rather to divide parties in America, than expected to be cordially 
received there. With this explanation it passed the House, and was transmitted 
to the colonial governors, with orders to press its acceptance warmly upon the 
different legislatures^ but it experienced the usual fate of insincere and tem- 
porizing expedients. 

Not long after the passing of the New England Restraining Bill, arrived 
the imiwelcome news that the middle and southern colonists were joining heart 
and hand with their brothers of the north. The ministers were now in con- 

2 z 



i 



3o4 SITUATION OF THE CITY OF BOSTON. [1775. 

sistency obliged to impose the same restrictions upon all the offending States, 
New York, Delaware, and North Carolina alone excepted. Even these States 
however, in which the ministry had fondly hoped to have found adherents, 
proved to be no less earnest in their opposition to their measures than the 
others. Towards the end of the session, Burke, as agent for New York, pre- 
sented a petition from the general assembly of that province ; but as this was 
found to be hardly less emphatic in its declarations and claims than those of 
Massachusetts itself, Lord North, on the ground that it denied the supreme 
legislative authority of parliament, succeeded in carrying an amendment that 
it should not be entertained by the House. 

Previously to this, Burke had brought forward a proposal for entirely re- 
nouncing all attempts to tax the colonies, and trusting to the local assemblies 
for a free grant of such sums as should be required. In one of his most 
deeply studied and statesmanlike speeches he proposed to " establish the 
equity and justice of a taxation of America by grant, and not by imposUion, to 
mark the lec/al competency of the colonial assemblies for the support of their 
government in peace and for the public aids in time of war, to acknowledge 
that this legal competency has had a dutiful and beneficial exercise, and that 
experience has shown the benefit of their grants and the futility of parliament- 
ary taxation as a measure of supply." But the utmost eloquence of Burke 
failed to render this conciliatory proposition acceptable to the House. 

We must now turn from the British parliament to the city of Boston, 
destined to become the scene of those hostilities that could no longer be 
averted. " This city," says Botta, " is situated in about the centre of the 
province of Massachusetts, on a tongue of land which, joined to the con- 
tinent by a very narrow isthmus, exjjands afterwards enough to contain a 
city of considerable size. The form of this peninsula is irregular, forming 
alternately bays and promontories. One of these bays, on the eastern side, 
serves as the port, receiving equally ships of war and merchant vessels. To- 
wards the north, the ground is divided into two points or horns, one of which, 
looking north-east, is called Point Hudson ; the other, facing the north-west, 
is denominated Point Barton. Opposite these two points appears another 
peninsula, which, from the name of a large suburb opj)osite the city, is called 
Charlestown, and it is joined to the continent by a very narrow isthmus, which 
bears the same denomination. The sea forms an arm of about half a mile 
broad between Hudson and Barton Points, and Charlestown (now united by 
a bridge) ; it afterwards extends itself so as to surround the Avestern portion of 
the peninsula of Boston. Several rivers or creeks discharge themselves into 
this bay, the principal being, the Muddy, the Charles, the Mistic, and the 
Medford. Not far from the isthmus of Boston, the continent advances into 
the sea and forms a long promontory, which extends on the right hand east- 
ward, which form another sort of peninsula, although joined to the mainland 
by an isthmus much larger than those of Boston and Charlestown, and bearing 
the name of the isthmus and point of Dorchester. The peninsulas of Charles- 
town and Dorchester are so near that of Boston, that batteries erected on them 



1775.] CONDITION OF THE AMERICAN ARMY. 355 

carry even into the city ; these peninsulas are moreover covered with lulls 
singularly favourable for the placing of artillery. One of these, named 
Breed's Hill, rises conspicuously above Charlestown, and commands the city 
of Boston ; another, near the extremity of the isthmus, and consequently 
farther off from Boston, bears the name of Bunker's Hill (These heights, it 
should be remarked, entirely commanded the great northern road into the 
country.) On the peninsula of Dorchester are conspicuous the so-called 
Dorchester Heights, and finally, another called Nook's Hill, croAvning the 
point nearest to Boston. The bay is dotted over with small islands, the most 
conspicu.ous of which are Noddle, Thompson, Governor's, Long Island, and 
Castle Island. Westward of Boston, on the Charles river, is situated the large 
village of Cambridge, (the seat of the so-often mentioned university,) and south- 
ward, at the entry of the isthmus, that of Roxbury." The American army 
rested its left wing on the river Mistic, and intercepted the isthmus of Charles- 
town. The centre occupied Cambridge, and the right wing, carried as far as 
Roxbury, kept the garrison in check upon that side of the isthmus, which being 
fortified, might facilitate their sorties and expeditions into the open country. 

To continue the grajjhic description of this author : " In this situation were 
the two armies respectively placed, but the number and quality of the com- 
batants, their opinions, military knowledge, arms, ammunition, and ])roA'is"'ons, 
render their condition widely different. The Americans were far sujxjior in 
number, but this number was subject to continual fluctuations. That rigid 
discipline, without which there can exist neither order nor stability in an army, 
was not yet introduced among them; the militia rejoined or quitted their 
colours at pleasure ; every day one troop replaced another in the camp. They 
enjoyed an abundance of all sorts of provisions, and especially of the vege- 
tables, so necessary to a soldier's health. But their arms were far from being 
adequate ; they possessed in all but sixteen field-pieces, of which six, at the 
utmost, were in a condition to do service. Their bronze cannon, of which 
they had but a very short number, were of the very weakest calibre. They 
had some stronger ones of iron, with three or four mortars and howitzers, and 
a small stock of balls and bombs. Powder was almost totally wanting. There 
was an abundance of muskets, but they were of all sorts of calibres, every 
militia-man bringing with him his own. For the rest, they knew how to use 
them with surprising skill, which rendered them singularly fit for sharp- 
shooters and skirmishers ; but not so suited, on the other hand, for fighting 
in oi'der of battle. They had no uniform, and no magazines of provisions, they 
lived day by day without taking thought for the morrow ; but at the outset, at 
least, every thing was abundant around them, thanks to the zeal of their sur- 
rounding countrymen. Cash was hardly known in the army, but paper- 
money, whicji at this period was fully equal in value. The officers were 
deficient in military knowledge, except those who had served in the. preceding 
wars. They Avere scarcely even recognised by their soldiers ; the organization 
of the corps was not yet completed, and the changes were perpetual. Orders 
were badly executed, every one desired to command and to do as he pleased, 

2 z 2 



&56 THE BRITISH TROOPS IN BOSTON. [1775. 

and very few deigned to obey. In short, with, the excejition of certain regi- 
ments, who had been formed in certain jn'ovinces by experienced leaders, the 
rest formed rather an assemblage than an army. But all these defects were 
compensated by a warmth and obstinacy of party spirit, and by the profound 
persuasion of the justice of their cause, entertained by all alike. Moreover 
the leaders of the army and the ministers of religion neglected no means of 
exciting every day, a people already disposed to enthusiastic ideas of religion, 
to redouble their firmness and valour in an enterprise sacred in the eyes of God 
and all good men. It was thus, with these scanty preparations, but with this un- 
common ardour, that the Americans commenced a war, which every thing an- 
nounced as likely to be both long and bloody. It might be foreseen nevertheless, 
that wdiatever were the reverses in store for them at the first, an unshaken 
constancy must insure their eventual triumph; and in acquiring discipline 
and tactics, the soldiers would not fail to prove equal to any that could be 
brought against them." 

" As to the British troops, they were abundantly provided with every thing 
necessary for a campaign ; their arsenals were crammed with artillery of every 
calibre, excellent muskets, j)lenty of powder, and arms of all descriptions. 
The soldiers were perfectly disciplined, accustomed to fatigue and danger, and 
for a long period formed to the first, but most difficult of the arts of war — that 
of obedience. They recalled the exploits by which they had distinguished 
themselves in the service of their country, in contending with the most war- 
like nations in the world. An especial motive added still more to the martial 
ardour of this army, the consciousness of fighting under the banners of their 
king, a consideration which generally adds fresh force to the sense of military 
honour. The English besides regarded the enemies they were about to 
encounter as reheh, and at that name alone they felt an animosity far beyond 
ordinary courage. They burned with the desire of revenging themselves for 
the afi"ront of Lexington, and could not bring themselves to believe that the 
insurgents were capable of resisting them ; they persisted in regarding them as 
cowards, who owed their success at Lexington only to their numbers and 
their advantage of the ground. They were convinced that upon the first 
serious encounter, the first pitched battle, the colonists would not dare to 
await them with firm foot. But until the arrival of the reinforcements pro- 
mised by the English government, prudence required them to act with cir- 
cumspection towards the Americans, whose forces were more than triple. 
Meanwhile the blockade was so rigid that, as no supply of provisions could 
any longer enter the city, fresh meat and vegetables began to get extremely 
scarce. Although the English had the command by sea, and a great number 
of light vessels at their disposal, they coidd draw no supplies whatever from 
the New England coasts, as the inhabitants had driven all their cattle into the 
interior of the country. Nor, as to the other provinces, could they obtain 
any thing freely, and they dared not employ force, since they were not as yet 
declared to be rebels. The scarcity at Boston thus became extreme, the gar- 
rison as well as inhabitants being reduced to salted provisions. Thus the 



17T5.] PART OF THE CITIZENS LEA VE BOSTON. 3o7 

English longed for the arrival of reinforcements from home, so as to be able 
to hazard some sudden blow, and thus extricate themselves from the critical 
situation in which they were placed." 

" The besiegers, aware that the inhabi*^ants of Boston had no other resources 
than the royal magazines, redoubled their vigilance in intercej)ting all external 
succoui-s. They trusted that the exhaustion of these magazines would at length 
force the governor to consent that the inhabitants should evacuate the city, 
or at least allow all useless mouths, namely, the women and children, to take 
their departure. The insurgents had several times made this demand with 
great urgency, but the governor, in spite of his difficulty in feeding the troops, 
appeared but little disposed to listen to this proposition. He looked upon the 
inhabitants as so many hostages who should answer for the city and its gar- 
rison, fearing lest the Americans should try to take the place by a general 
assault. The latter had indeed given out a report to that effect, though they 
had not the slightest intention of doing so. Their generals were too experi- 
enced not to see what a fatal and discouraging impression could not fail to be 
produced upon the public mind, by a blow of this importance, struck without 
success in the very outset of the war. Now there was but a very slender 
chance in favour of this assault, the in trench ments of the isthmus being of 
prodigious strength; and in the second place, that there was but little hope, so 
long as the English Avere masters at sea, and possessed a numerous marine. But 
at length General Gage, urged by necessity, and also desiring to get their 
arms out of the hands of the citizens, on which score he was not without con- 
siderable apprehensions, opened a lengthened conference with the council of 
the city:" The folloAving conditions were agreed upon. Those citizens who 
should deposit their arms at Faneuil Hall, or some other public place, were to 
be allowed to retire with all their property to whatever place they j)leased 
and a promise was even made to restore their arms when an opportune period 
had arrived. Thirty vehicles were to be admitted into the city to carry away 
the effects belonging to the emigrants, and the Admiralty were to furnish such 
vessels of transport as should be equally deemed necessary. This convention 
was at first punctually observed on both sides, the inhabitants deposited their 
arms, and the general delivered to them their permits. But shortly after- 
wards, whether he was unwilling to deprive himself entirely of hostages, or 
whether he feared, as the report ran, that the insurgents intended to set fu-e to 
the city as soon as their partisans had left it, he pretended that individuals 
who had left on the service of persons attached to the royal cause had been 
maltreated, and he began to refuse the passports. These refusals led to vio- 
lent complaints, both among the inhabitants as weU as the provincial troops. 
Nevertheless the governor persisted in his resolution. If he allowed some of 
the citizens to depart, it was no longer but on the condition that they should 
leave behind them their furniture and effects." 

In the mean time the second session of the colonial congi'ess was opened at 
Philadelphia, in the beginning of the month of May. Since its first meeting 
affairs had ripened towards a crisis, the British had marched into the interior 



358 THE SECOND MEETING OF THE CONGRESS. [1775. 

of the country, tlie blood that had been shed had deepened the growing ani- 
mosity towards the parent country. In Massachusetts, at least, every linger- 
ing trace of loyalty was gone, and independence was openly talked of. The 
die was cast, to retrace their steps was impossible, to advance, though peril- 
ous, the only consistent and honourable course. Accordingly, while in their 
first session congress had expressly disclaimed political power, and contented 
themselves with merely recommending certain measures for the general adop- 
tion, they were now, by the exigency of the occasion, compelled to assume the 
direct authority of a government, which, although undefined in its limits, was 
invested with the confidence and support of the entire country. 

Nevertheless, whatever might have been the views of a certain party, and 
although the great majority might have felt that matters had gone too far to 
be amicably made up with England, it was still the policy of congress to 
disclaim any "intention of throwing ofi" their allegiance. The influence of 
Dickenson and those who yet hoped for a reconciliation with Great Britain 
was allowed for a while to prevail, and though contrary to the general belief 
in the futility of such expedients, fresh addresses to the king and to the people 
of Great Britain were ordered to be prepared. Upon one point however all 
were agreed. The British had been the first aggressors, the temper of the 
ministry was still unyielding, and they evinced by the importation of fresh 
troops a firm determination to suppress the liberties of America by force. It 
was therefore resolved that the most vigorous measures should be adopted for 
the security of the country. The Massachusetts convention had requested 
congress to assume the direction of the forces before Boston, and they now 
resolved to raise ten additional companies of riflemen in Pennsylvania, Mary- 
land, and Virginia, to be paid out of the public funds. Committees were 
appointed to prepare reports on subjects connected with the defence of the 
country, and such was the opinion already entertained of Washington's abilities 
and judgment, that he was chosen to preside over them. His own mind, it is 
needless to say, Avas fully convinced of the necessity of an aj)pcal to the sAvord. 
In a letter to a friend in England at this period, he thus writes, in reference 
to the aflair of Lexington. " Unhappy it is to reflect, that a brother's sword 
has been sheathed in a brother's breast, and that the once happy and peaceful 
plains of America are either to be drenched in blood or inhabited by slaves. 
Sad alternative ! But can a virtuoiis man hesitate in his choice ? " 

The congress next proceeded to the important and delicate business of 
selecting a commander-in-chief. In so doing they had many claims to consi- 
der, many difficulties to reconcile, and many jealousies to appease. Their 
task might well have proved impossible, or their choice ruinous, had not Pro- 
vidence already prejDarcd that individual who, of all others upon the soil of 
America, alone possessed the many qualities required by the perils of the 
time. This, as the reader will already have anticipated, could be no other than 
AVashington himself. His military talents had been fully displayed in the 
campaigns with the French and Indians, while his prudence, firmness, saga- 
city, and self-command had conspicuously attracted the notice of congress 



1775.] WASHINGTON MADE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 359 

during their preceding session. There were other officers, natives of the 
country, such as Putnam and Ward, then leaders of this army before Boston, 
whose claims could not be overlooked ; and it seemed doubtful how far the 
New Englanders, who had talvcn the brunt of the struggle, and already so 
nobly distinguished themselves, might be willing to accept a Commander from, 
any but their oAvn States. Happily, after a due consideration of all the bear- 
ings of the question, the generous New Englanders were themselves the first 
to suggest the nomination of Washington. During the discussion on military 
affairs, John Adams, after moving that the levies then before Boston should 
be adopted by congress as a continental army, declared that it was his inten- 
tion "to propose for the office of commander-in-chief a gentleman from Virgi- 
nia, who was at that time a member of their own body." Conscious that this 
pointed observation had reference to himself, Washington arose and withdrew 
from the assembly. On the appointed day the nomination was made by Mr. j 
Johnson of Maryland, and on inspecting the ballot, it was found that Wash- 1 
ington had been unanimously elected. In rising to express his thanks for the 
signal honour thus conferred upon him, he begged " to declare with the ut- 
most sincerity that he did not think himself equal to the command he Avas 
honoured with ; " and in reference to a vote previou.sly passed by congress, 
assured them,/' that as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted him 
to accept this arduous employment at the expense of his domestic ease and 
happiness, he could accept of no other remuneration than the payment of his 
expenses, of which he would keep an exact account." His letters to his wife 
breathe the same spirit of self-distrust and reliance uj^on a higher power. 
** As it has been a kind of destiny," he observes, " that has thrown me upon this 
service, I shall hope my undertaking it is designed to answer some good pur- 
pose. I shall rely therefore on that Providence, which has heretofore pre- 
served and been bountiful to me." 

Four days afterwards Washington formally received his commission as 
commander-in-chief, and the members of congress solemnly pledged them- 
selves to adhere to him with their lives and fortunes. In fact, besides the 
peril of encountering a valiant and experienced adversary, the American 
generals must have been conscious, to use the insulting expression of the 
English, that they " fought with halters around their necks," and that if taken 
prisoners they had nothing less to expect than the confiscation of their pro- 
perty, and perhaps an ignominious death upon the scafibld At the same time 
were appointed several other officers, afterwards celebrated during the war. 
Putnain and Ward were chosen major-generals, as was also Lee, while Gates 
was adjutant-general with the rank of brigadier Gates, as before observed, 
was an Englishman, and had fought with Washington, at the disastrous 
defeat of Braddock. Lee had been a lieutenant-colonel in the British service, 
but for some unknown reason had taken bitter offence, resigned his commission, 
and embraced the cause of the Americans. Notwithstanding the ability and 
experience of these officers, they were naturally distrusted by congress, but 
were ultimately apj)ointed through the influence of Washington. Eichard 



3G0 REINFORCEMENTS RECEIVED FROM ENGLAND. [1775 

Montgomery, a young Irishman, had served under Wolfe at Louisburg and 
Quebec, and having married an American veife, sold his commission and re- 
tu-ed to New York. Philip Schuyler was a gentleman of large property 
and influence near Albany, Both of these gentlemen, at the recommendation of 
the New York provincial congress, were aj^pointed generals ; as were also 
Sullivan, of New Hampshire ; Pomeroy, Heath, and Thomas, of Massachusetts ; 
Wooster and Spencer, of Connecticut ; and Greene, of Rhode Island. 

As in the disorganized state of the army the immediate presence of the com- 
mander-in-chief was indispensable, no time was lost by Washington in rcpau'- 
ing to the scene of his duties. On the 21st of June he left Philadelphia, 
accompanied by Lee and Schuyler. He was every where received with great 
honour. The provincial congress of New York, then in session, deputed a com- 
mittee to meet him at Newark, and attend him across the river. At New 
York he received the news of the battle of Bunker's Hill, which induced him 
to hasten forward, leaving General Schuyler as commander in New York. He 
pursued his journey attended by volunteer military companies, and on the 2nd 
of July arrived at Cambridge. Two days afterwards the jDrovincial congress 
of Massachusetts presented to him a cordial and flattering address, the army 
received him with genuine warmth, and he entered upon his arduous labours 
cheered by universal esteem and confidence. In truth, he needed the ut- 
most support in order to contend with the Herculean difficulties which shortly 
developed themselves before him. 

About the end of the previous IMay Gage had received considerable rein- 
forcements from England, under Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton, 
which raised his army to upwards of ten thousand men. He now issued a pro- 
clamation in the king's name, offering pardon to all persons who should lay 
down their arms and return to their allegiance, " excepting only Samuel Adams 
and John Hancock, whose offences," it declared, " were of too flagitious a nature 
to admit of any other consideration than that of condign punishment." Mar- 
tial law was also proclaimed, " for so long as the present unhappy occasion 
should necessarily require." 

So far were these measures from intimidating the insurgents, that they 
tended to draw them still closer together, and to inspire them with still more 
determined energy. As the forces of Gage had now so greatly increased, it 
was apprehended that he ^Aoidd no longer submit to be cooped w]} within the 
walls of Boston, but break through the enemy's line of blockade and advance 
into the open country. Private information having been received that he in- 
tended to assume the offensive, with the view of more completely cutting off 
the communication with the country. Colonel Prescott, with a company of 
about a thousand men, including a company of artillery and two field-pieces, 
was detached at nightfall to take possession of Bunker's Hill, a bold eminence 
at the northern extremity of the peninsula of Charlestown. By some mistake 
however the party went past Bunker's Hill, and commenced operations on 
Breed's Hill, near the southern termination of the peninsula, and overlooking 
and commanding Boston. There, dii-ected by the engineer Gridley, and under 



1775.] BREED'S HILL TAKEN BY THE AMERICANS. 361 

cover of tlie darkness, they worked away in silence, and so vigorously, that 
when morning dawned they had thrown up a considerable redoubt on the 
crest of the hill, and were still toiling on to complete the remainder of the 
intrenchments. 

About four in the morning of the 17th June, the works were first perceived 
from a man-of-war in the harbour, whence a cannonade was immediately oj)ened 
upon the workmen. This firing immediately gave the alarm to the city, and 
crowds of people rushed down to the shore to discover what had occasioned 
it. The British generals, ascending the steeples and eminences of the city, 
reconnoitred the new works, at which, in spite of the cannonade, both from 
the ships, the town, and the floating batteries, the provincials, commanded by 
Gridley and Knox, continued to labour on with undiminished assiduity. To 
allow them to complete their fortifications, and occupy this jiosition, would 
have placed the ships in the harbour, and even the city itself, in peril ; it was 
therefore determined to dislodge them without a moment's loss of time. 

The position now occupied by the Americans was as follows : The newly 
constructed redoubt formed its crest and centre, on the right was Charles- 
town, and on the left an unfinished breastwork, which was continued down to 
the river Mystic, by a barricade constructed of two lines of rails from the neigh- 
bouring fences, filled up with new-mown hay. This paj-t of the works was de- 
fended by General Starke, Avith two New Hampshire regiments, w^ho reached 
the ground just before the battle commenced. The Massachusetts and Connec- 
ticut troops were distributed along the rest of the hne. "VYarren had hurried 
up to the scene of action only just in time, and took post among the defenders of 
the redoubt. There was little expectation of attack, and hardly any prepar- 
ation to repel it. No cannon was mounted, the quantity of ammunition 
was small, and the provincials were unprovided with bayonets. Nor was 
there even any regular commander, although the brave " Old Putnam," as he 
was called, assumed, by common consent, the general direction of affairs. 

During the \\hole morning Boston was in a state of the greatest excitement 
wdth the stir of military preparation ; and soon after noon, about three 
thousand British troops embarked under the orders of Generals Howe and 
Pigot, and landed at ]\Iorton's Point, at the foot of the Icng hill on which the 
American redoubt was erected, under cover of the guns of the ships of war in 
the harbour. Having observed the firm attitude of the insurgents. General 
Howe thought it prudent to send for seme additional reinforcements. His 
plan was to attack the redoubt and Charlestown in front, while another body, 
penetrating the rail fence, should take the defenders in fiank, and thus at once 
storm their works and cut off their retreat frcm the peninsula. 

The reinforcements having arrived, Howe prepared fcr action, and in a 
short speech assured his soldiers " that he would require no man to venture 
where he himself was not the first to show the way." About three o'clock, 
under cover of their artillery, the British troops advanced slowly and steadily 
up to the redoubt. It was a fearful moment, upon which the fate of America 
seemed to be suspended. The steeples and roofs in Boston, every corner in the 

3 A 



363 THE BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. [1775. 

city and every spot in the neighbourliood that commanded a view o%'cr the 
scene of hostilities, was crowded with anxious spectators, men, women, and 
chikh-en, whose very souls were fixed with painful intensity upon the issue 
of the coming conflict. It was the decisive trial — would the jjrovincials 
await with firm foot the point of the dreaded British bayonet, or Avould they 
flinch and fly ? Prescott had warned them not to waste a shot, but reserve 
their fire until they could see the white of their enemies' eyes ; and knowing 
moreover that they were all of them good marksmen, counselled them to 
take steady aim at their opponents, and especially to j)ick off the officers. 
They obeyed him, upon the whole, with admirable steadiness. As the 
British line neared the redoubt, a thousand muskets flashed at once with 
simultaneous aim and unerring precision ; the head of the advancing column 
was instantly shattered, and that redoubtable infantry, after firing an irregular 
volley, and receiving others aimed as fatally as was the first, at length fell 
back and retreated in disorder to the landing. Sensitive to this disgrace, the 
officers were instantly seen running to and fro, encouraging or threatening 
their men, and in a short time the line was rallied, and ready to renew the 
attack. Meanwhile, with a view of expelling the provincials, the village of 
Charlestown Avas set on fire by the British, the tall spire of the church soon 
became a pillar of flame, and vast columns of fire and smoke added to the 
terrific interest of the spectacle. A second time the British advanced to the 
charge, and a second time the provincials opened upon them the same close and 
unerring fire, and drove them back in confusion towards the shore ; so terrible 
was the slaughter, that most of the officers around General Howe were shot 
down, and he remained at one time almost alone vipon the field of battle. 
At this critical moment. General Clinton, who had been watching the issue 
of the conflict from Cop's Hill, hastened over from Boston with fresh rein- 
forcements, the soldiers were led up a third time to the attack, directed to 
receive the enemy's fire, and then rush in and carry the redoubt with the 
bayonet. The ammunition of the defenders Avas by this time nearly ex- 
hausted, their fire upon the advancing column sensibly slackened ; the grena- 
diers, leaping on the redoubt Avith- fixed bayonets, dashed into it on three 
sides at once. The provincials, Avithout bayonets to oppose to those of 
the British, defended themselves desperately for a moment Avitli the butt- 
ends of their muskets. Some pieces of artillery, mcauAAhile, had been 
pushed in between the rail fence and the breastwork, and pointed upon them, 
rendering further resistance impossible. Starke's troops had bravely defended 
the stockade, conscious that if the enemy had forced their position, and 
taken in the rear the defenders of the redoubt, their discomfiture must 
have been inevitable. Seeing that this had now happened, in spite of the 
entreaties of Putnam, who sought to lead them against the victorious Eng- 
lish, they noAV effected their retreat, AA'ith a degree of order and steadiness 
which savoured but little of a rout. Their only means of returning Avas by the 
narrow isthmus of CharlestoAA^n Neck, swept by an incessant fire from, the 
floating batteries, which' hoAVCA'er occasioned them but little loss. They fell 



1775.] LOSSES OF THE BRITISH AXD AMERICANS. 363 

back and intrenclied tlieniselves at Prospect Hill, only about a mile from 
the field of battle. 

The British had gained a nominal triumph, not however, as they had proudly 
anticipated, with little or no effort on their part ; it had cost them the utmost 
exertion of their gallantry to achieve it, and they had purchased it at a fearful 
price, one third of their number lay killed or wounded on the field. Their 
victory too was utterly inconclusive ; they had stormed the works, their de- 
fenders had retreated in good order, and with a loss comparatively trifling ; a 
redoubt and a breastwork was all they had acquired at the cost of so much 
blood. The result of the engagement at length convinced General Gage, in 
the words of his letter to the ministry, that " the provincials were not the 
despicable rabble he had supposed them to be," that they had in nowise de- 
generated from the courage of their English forefathers, and that it w^ould 
cost a far greater exertion of power to reduce them to obedience than the 
army in the plenitude of its pride, and the ministry in the plenitude of its 
ignorance, had hitherto sujaposecl to be needful. On the other hand, the con- 
fidence of the Americans was greatly raised by the success of this en- 
counter ; a second and more signal proof had been afforded that their enemies 
were not invincible. 

The loss of the Americans, sheltered as they were by their defences, was 
far less than that of the British ; but among the fallen was Joseph Warren, 
whose loss was deeply felt, as being one of the most ardent and influential of 
the popular leaders. He was born at Eoxbury near Boston, and having gra- 
duated at Harvard college, folloAved the profession of medicine, in which he 
had attained considerable eminence. He was one of the earliest advocates of 
popular rights, and in conjunction with Samuel Adams, had laboured suc- 
cessfully at the establishment of local committees of correspondence. With an 
integrity above suspicion, and a character peculiarly amiable, he had naturally 
acquired increasing influence with his fellow patriots ; he was chosen the 
chairman of the committee of safety, and after distinguishing himself in many 
skirmishes with the enemy, had received the commission of Major-General 
only four days before the battle of Bunker's Hill. As soon as he heard that the 
British were meditating an attack, he hurried up to the scene of action, and 
shared with the Massachusetts soldiers in the peril of defending the intrcnch- 
nients. When they were at length forced, and the Americans compelled to 
retreat across Charlcstown Neck, he was the last to leave the redoubt, and im- 
mediately afterward received a mortal wound. The loss of Warren caused a 
profound impression throughout America. He "o^as the first person of any 
note that had as yet fallen in the quarrel, and his amiable qualities deep- 
ened the general concern at his loss. He was regarded as the first martyr to 
the cause of American liberty, and his death became the favourite theme of 
popular orators, who failed not to denounce the unnatural tyranny which had 
brought so valuable a citizen to an untimely end. 

"\Micn Washington reached the head-quarters of the American army at 
Cambridge, his first business was to ascertain its strength and position. He 

3 A 2 



364 RECONSTRUCTIOX OF THE AMERICAN ARMY. [1775, 

found that it occupied a complete line of siege round Boston, extending 
nearly twelve miles, from ]\Iystic river to Dorchester, of which Cambridge 
formed the centre. To. defend this immense line, there were but about 
twelve thousand men fit for duty. Intrenchments and redoubts had been 
thrown up at the most important points, and other works were still in 
progress. The British army, cut off from supplies, and unable to pene- 
trate into the open country, numbered about eleven thousand men. General 
Gage being in the city, and the bulk of his forces intrenched upon Bunker's 
Hill, or occupying Boston JVeck, the only direct access to the city from 
the interior. 

A council of war being called, it became a serious question whether 
this extensive line, which it was feared the enemy might be able to pe- 
netrate, should be maintained, or whether a stronger position should be oc- 
cupied at some distance further inland. As such a measure must have proved 
very discouraging to the troops, it was unanimously resolved that the present 
position of the army should at all risks be occupied. 

A formidable task now awaited Washington, that of giving form and sta- 
bility to the loose and heterogeneous materials of which the army was composed. 
Prompted by the impulse of patriotism, the citizens had eagerly shouldered 
their rifles and hurried down to the camp, they had already given abundant 
proofs of courage, and were excited to the highest pitch by their recent suc- 
cesses over the enemy. But the same ardent spirit that had stimulated them 
to action, proved itself a serious obstacle to their military organization. They 
^ere impatient of the restraints required by discipline, and alarmed at the 
prospect of a protracted service. Most of them had been enlisted for a brief 
period by their respective States, many had left their families and business in 
the anticipation of a speedy return, and after the first brush with the enemy, 
were impatient to return to their homes. Few of them foresaw the duration 
of hostilities, and had they done so, would have been unwilling to engage 
themselves for so lengthened a period. 

Besides the disjointed state of the soldiery, they were most miserably pro- 
vided with every necessary, except provisions. There was no military chest, 
no stock of clothing, few tents or stores of any kind, and the supply of ammu- 
nition was so low that, on instituting an examination, Washington discovered, 
to his surprise and consternation, that there was not enough for nine cartridges 
a man to the whole camp. 

But what was perhaps of most importance, there was as yet no regular or- 
ganization or discipline. At first the regiments had elected their own leaders, 
and there had been no general officers invested with a j'ecognised command. 
And when congress at length proceeded to remedy this deficiency, their ap- 
pointments were received with great dissatisfaction, and gave rise to such 
jealousy and dissension, that many threatened to leave the camp altogether, 
unless the evil was speedily redressed. 

Such was the state of the army, when Washington, having matured his 
plans, began the gradual and difficult work of its reconstruction. He formed it 



1775.] UNSETTLED CONDITION OF THE CONGRESS. 365 

into tliree grand divisions, the left wing commanded by Lee, the right by- 
Ward, and the centre, at Cambridge, by Pntnam. A system of rides and 
regulations had been agreed upon by congress, to which, although many 
of the existing levies refused their compliance, all fresh recruits were com-, 
palled to subscribe. Among these new comers were several companies of 
riflemen from INIaryland, Pennsylvania, and -Virginia ; one of the latter regi- 
ments being commanded by Daniel Morgan, who afterwards attained consi- 
derable distinction. 

Besides the organization of the army, there devolved on Washington the 
arduous task of arranging its operations with congress, and stimulating that 
body to provide for its manifold wants. " My best abilities," he writes, " are 
at all times devoted to the service of my country. But I feel the weighty 
importance and variety of my present duties too sensibly not to wish a more 
frequent communication with congress. I fear it may often happen, in the 
course of our present operations, that I shall need that assistance and direc- 
tion from them, which time and distance will not allow me to receive." But 
congress was at that time almost as unsettled as the army itself. It was com- 
posed of men differing in opinion as to the dispute with England, some of 
them yet hoping for a reconciliation, and others doubtless looking forward to 
independence. They had hurriedly assumed the functions of government, 
and their authority as yet rested entirely upon public oj)inion. But recently 
come together from the different States, they brought with them their sectional 
interests and jealousies. In one thing they were indeed united, to defend 
themselves by force of arms against the tyrannical conduct of the English 
ministry. But while strenuously contending against a foreign despotism, might 
they not, by building up a powerful standing army of their own, lay them- 
selves open to an equally formidable peril ? As yet all was new and untried, 
and Washington himself, though highly respected, had not, by a long career of 
disinterested patriotism, rooted himself j)rofoundly in the universal confidence 
of his country. " We have the fullest assurance," say they, " that whenever 
this important contest shall be decided, by that fondest wish of every American 
soul, an accommodation with our mother country, you will cheerfully resign 
the important deposit committed to you:^ hands, and reassume the character of 
our worthiest citizen." This distrust, so natural in the position of congress, 
was not unperceived by Washington, but, conscious of his high and patriotic 
motives, he laboured to inspire them with increasing confidence, while by his 
intimate knowledge of military details he necessarily rendered himself the 
centre of all their operations. 

Nor was it a less arduous task to stimulate to action the governments of the 
respective colonies, upon whom in fact devolved the execution of the measures 
decided on by congress. There was from the first that jealousy on the part 
of the different States, not only of each other, but also of the authority of 
the central government, to appease which has ever proved the most difficult 
problem of American statesmen. Although at the present moment one com- 
mon imjDulse animated the whole, yet the furnishing their respective quotas of 



366 GEN. HO WE BECOMES THE BRITISH COMMANDER. [17:5. 

men and money, for the common cause, was frequently accompanied by hesi- 
tation and delay. Nothing but invincible patience and temper, together with 
consummate prudence and wisdom, could have enabled Washington to meet 
and overcome such varied and formidable difficulties. 

Meanwhile, Washington heard that several prisoners who had fallen into the 
hands of the English at the battle of Bunker's Hill, were treated with great 
severity by General Gage. Washington and Gage had served together as 
aides-de-camp to the unfortunate Eraddock, and had fought side by side in 
the bloody battle of the Monongahela. Ever since that time they had main- 
tained a friendly correspondence, and now, in the chapter of accidents, they 
stood opposed to each other as the leaders of opposing armies. The British 
general, who regarded the Americans in the light of " rebels," denied the 
charge of cruelty, and boasted, on the contrary, of having spared many " whose 
lives by the law of the land were destined to the cord." He also professed to 
ignore all rank which was not derived from the king. The reply of Wash- 
ington was temperate and noble. " You affect, sir," he said, " to despise all 
rank not derived from the same source as your own. I cannot conceive one 
more honourable than that which flows from the uncorrupted choice of a brave 
and free people, the purest source and original fountain of all power." He 
threatened at first to retaliate the ill usage of American prisoners upon such 
of the British as fell into his power, but adopting more merciful counsels, 
eventually released them upon parole, in the hope that " such conduct would 
compel their grateful acknowledgments that Americans are as merciful as they 
are brave." Shortly after this incident. General Gage was recalled to Eng- 
land, ostensibly " in order to give his Majesty exact information of every thing, 
and suggest such matters as his knowledge and experience of the service en- 
abled him to furnish." He was succeeded by General Howe, a brother of the 
same Lord Howe, who had been killed before Ticonderoga, and whose 
memory was affectionately cherished by the Americans. This change of 
command however led to no increased activity on the part of the British, Avho 
remained quietly within their intrenchments, sending out only small foraging 
parties, who often came into collision with the American outposts. This 
inaction appears greatly to have surprised Washington, who was well aware 
that the enemy were acquainted with his deficiency of ammunition, and it 
has with much probability been attributed to the desire of Howe not to in- 
crease the difficulty of a speedy adjustment of the quarrel by any further 
acts of hostility. 

We must now glance awhile at the operations of congress. Their first care 
was to pro\Tide the sinews of war by large emissions of bills of credit, the 
liability to redeem which devolved, in just proportion, upon the respective 
colonies. As the royal post-office had fallen to the ground, a continental 
one was now organized, and Franklin, now returned from England, was ap- 
pointed postmaster-general. An army hospital "was also created, and placed 
under the direction of Doctor Benjamin Church. 

In the future conduct of the war, there were two subjects of anxiety to con- 



17T5.] CONGRESS PLANS AN INVASION OF CANADA. 367 

gress, what part the Indians might be induced to take in it, and what would 
be the disposition of the Canadians. The deplorable policy which had already- 
led to so many sanguinary scenes, of engaging the Indians in the quarrels of 
the whites, was now renewed to a certain extent by both parties. Even before 
the battle of Lexington, the provincial congress of Massachusetts had enlisted 
in their service a company of minute-men among the Stockbridge Indians. 
Overtures were made to the Six Nations, but were defeated by the agency of 
Guy Johnson, son of the celebrated Sir William Johnson, and a stanch loyal- 
ist, and who had inherited his father's influence over these tribes. The 
Cagnawagas, or French Mohawks, were however brought over to the cause. 
These efforts to obtain the alliance of the Indians were st];^nuously counter- 
worked by Sir Guy Carleton, then governor of Canada. The question next 
arose, whether the inhabitants of this province would be disposed to join the 
insurgents, or rather to assist in their subjugation. Addresses had been voted 
to them by congress, but the conciliatory policy of the British government had 
hitherto induced them to observe a prudent neutrality. After the surprise of 
Ticonderoga and Crown Point, Allen and Arnold had strenuously lu'ged upon 
congress the desirableness of advancing into Canada, where the British force Avas 
very small, and of seizing upon the important strongholds of that country. This 
measure was at first repugnant to congress, inasmuch as it seemed to be stepping 
out of the line of resistance they had marked out for themselves, and com- 
mencing a war of aggression. But as the designs of the British to reduce 
them to obedience by an increased display of force became apparent, the war 
assumed another character, and congress readily adopted the project of an 
attack upon Canada as a measure of self-defence, which was fully sanctioned 
by Washington himself, who regarded it as " being of the utmost consequence 
to the interests and liberties of America." 

The command of the detachment Avhich was to invade Canada, by way of 
Lake Champlain, was conferred on General Schuyler. Montgomery, who ac- 
companied him, was ordered to proceed in advance, and attack the strong post 
of St. John's, at the northern extremity of Lake Champlain, which, as com- 
manding the chief entry into Canada, had been carefully strengthened by Sir 
Guy Carleton. This order he proceeded to execute, and was shortly after- 
wards rejoined by Schuyler, who finding the fort defy his utmost efforts, 
retired to Isle aux Noix, whence illness compelled him to return to Ticonde- 
roga, leaving the command of the army in the hands of Montgomery. 

The siege of St. John's was now continued, but at first with very little 
success, until the American general, learning that Fort Chambly, at the rapids 
on the river Sorel, a few miles to the northward, was but slenderly gar- 
risoned, succeeded in surprising and capturing it. No sooner had Carleton, 
who was then at Montreal, heard of this disaster, than he immediately crossed 
the St. Lawrence with a reinforcement for the garrison of St. John's. Colonel 
Warner, however, placed himself in ambush on the shore, and as the English 
boats approached, opened upon them so heavy a fire that they were com- 
pelled to recross the river in great confusion. On learning the discomfiture 



36S CAPTURE OF MONTREAL BY 2I0NTG0MERT. [1T75. 

of these succours, tlie commandant of St. John's, who had ah'cady held out 
for six "weeks, surrendered on honourable terms. Montgomery now prepared 
to push over to the opposite shore. He had already been severely tried with 
the insubordination and bad discipline of his troops, and many of them now 
threatened to return home, but by his earnest persuasion were at last induced 
to assist in the cajjture of Montreal. Crossing the St. Lawrence he now 
entered the city, which immediately su.rrendercd. Montgomery had detached 
a strong force to the mouth of the Sorel to intercept the British vessels as 
they retired down the stream, and if possible effect the capture of Sir Guy 
Carleton, whose talents and activity were regarded as the soul of the English 
cause. In this design they were but partially successful. The vessels were 
taken, together with Prescott and a body of soldiers, who were on board ; 
but Carleton, embarking in a small boat furnished with muffled oars, suc- 
ceeded under cover of the night in eluding the watchfulness of the American 
guard boats ; and effecting his escape by an obscure channel of the river, 
rapidly descended to assume the command of Quebec, which was at that mo- 
ment threatened by the second division of the American army. To effect a 
junction with this body was the next object of IMontgomery, but he was 
doomed to struggle with the same insubordination and discontent that had 
already so seriously impeded his movements, and threatened his entire failure. 
Many of his levies insisted on returning home, and abandoned the army. At 
length however he succeeded in persuading a small force to march on with 
him to the rencontre of their brethren. 

Some time before, while besieging St. John's, IMontgomery detached Ethan 
Allen to endeavour, to arouse the Canadians to revolt, and induce them to 
join his standard. With the wild energy of his character, he had entirely 
succeeded in his object, and was on his way to join the camp before St. John's, 
when he fell in with Major Brown, at the head of a party of Americans and 
Canadians, who rej)orted that Montreal was feebly garrisoned, and proposed 
that they should surprise it in concert. This project, it is needless to say, was 
utterly unauthorized by the general in command, but then it was extremely 
tempting to an ardent spirit like that of Allen ; and in those early days of the 
American army, every man, spurning the restraints of discipline, sought only 
to do that which was right in his otvh eyes, and above all, to win fame and 
promotion by the performance of some gallant exploit. 

Accordingly it was agreed, that while Allen procured canoes, and traversed 
the St. Lawrence by night, a little below Montreal, Brown should cross over 
at the same time, not far above the city, and, at a given signal, they should 
simultaneously adA^ance and surprise it. Allen performed his 2:)art of the agree- 
ment, but some unknown reason prevented the co-operation of his confederate. 
On a windy night he embarked in canoes with his men, but for hour after 
hour he vainly awaited the promised signal, and as the day began to advance 
his own position became precarious in the extreme. He would have retreated 
at once, but his boats would hold but a third of his force ; his Canadian re- 
cruits ran off, and being discovered and attacked by a force fi-om the town. 



1775.] ETHAN ALLEN TAKEN BY THE ENGLISH. 360 

after a gallant defence of nearly two hours, lie was obliged to lay down his 
arms. He was conducted into the city, and brought before General Prescott, 
who, on learning from his own lips that he was the same man who had surprised 
Ticonderoga before any declaration of war, and struck perhaps with his 
eccentric and unmilitary appearance, treated him rather as the leader of a 
troop of banditti than an officer in honourable service, threatened to have him 
hanged, loaded him with heavy irons, and thrust him into the hold of the 
Gaspee war schooner, where he languished during five weeks. He was after- 
wards transferred to Quebec, and thence sent over to England to take 
his trial for treason. On landing at Falmouth, where his grotesque ap- 
pearance excited the surprise of the inhabitants, he was at first confined in 
Pendennis castle, thence transported to Halifax, and finally to New York, 
then in possession of the British, where, after three years' captivity, he was 
at length released in exchange for an English officer. Cut short in the very 
outset of his career, and blamed moreover for the rashness of his attempt on 
Montreal, he retired to his beloved Vermont, and thenceforth vanished from 
the scene of the revolutionary conflict. 

Benedict Arnold, who, as before narrated, had been baffled in his en- 
deavour to obtain the command at Ticonderoga, after remaining a short 
time in service on the shores of Lake Champlain, had returned to the camp 
at Cambridge, discontented with his treatment, and eager for some enterprise 
that should at once gratify his daring temper, and also open to him a path to 
distinction. To him Washington now resolved to confide the conduct of a most 
romantic expedition against Quebec. Arnold, when a trader, had formerly 
visited that city, to purchase horses ; he knew it well, and also had acquaint- 
ances within its walls. The journal of a British officer, who fifteen years before 
had traversed the intervening wilderness, while it displayed the perils and 
privations that awaited an army which should venture to penetrate it, served 
also in some measure as a guide to future operations. Eleven hundred men, 
among whom were three companies of Virginia and Pennsylvania riflemen, 
were appointed him for this hazardous service, commanded by several young 
military aspirants, who afterwards became celebrated in the history of the 
war ; among them were Morgan, Greene, Dearborne, and Aaron Burr, then a 
young cadet of twenty. 

At Newbury Port the expedition embarked for the mouth of the Kennebec 
river, where two hundred batteaux had already been provided for their fur- 
ther ascent of the stream. At Fort "Western, opposite Augusta, they reached 
the utmost verge of civilization. From this point to the next human habitation 
extended a wide and pathless wilderness, intersected with unknown moun- 
tains, lakes, and rivers. Into this they now boldly plunged. A small recon- 
noitring party was sent on in advance to the shores of Lake Megantic, the rest 
followed at intervals of a day apart, INIorgan with his riflemen leading the van. 
Arnold, after witnessing the departiu'e of the whole force, hurried forward and 
overtook Morgan at the falls of Norridgewock. Here, amidst the solitude of 
the forests, they came upon the mouldering vestiges of the church of the mur- 

3 B 



370 ARNOLD'S EXPEDITION TO QUEBEC. [1775. 

dered missionary Rasles, but the Indians who once dwelt there had fled for 
ever from the blood-stained spot. At this spot their difficulties commenced. 
It was necessary to repair and drag their batteaux, already damaged and 
leaky, past the waterfall, to launch them anew upon the stream. Seven days 
were consumed in this toilsome operation, and these labours had to be re- 
newed with every fresh obstruction of the stream. Worn out or terrified with 
these hardships, many had deserted or fallen sick, and when Arnold at length 
reached the great carrying-place from the Kennebec to Dead River, his ef- 
fective company Avas already thinned to nine hundred and fifty men. 

Toilsomely surmounting the fifteen miles that separated them from Dead 
River, they launched their canoes upon its gentle stream, flowing through an 
unbroken forest, gorgeous with the vivid hues of an American autumn. They 
next encamped at the foot of a lofty snow-covered mountain ; but scarcely had 
they set forward, when the river, suddenly swollen by rain, came down ujDon 
them with irresistible fury : the soldiers with much difficulty effected their re- 
treat, not before several boats were overturned and the provisions in them spoilt, 
a loss irreparable amidst these boundless and desolate forests. A council of 
war was held, and orders sent to Enos, who commanded the rear division, to 
send back the sick and feeble, but that officer retreated with his entire troop. 
Arnold however pressed forward through snow, which now lay two inches 
deep, the men toilsomely wading marshes, and working their batteaux with 
infinite difficulty along streams interrupted by numerous waterfalls, until at 
length they reached the shores of Lake Megantic, the source of the Chau- 
driere river, which falls into the river St. Lawrence a little above Quebec. 

At this spot they found the agent who had been sent on to sound the dis- 
position of the Canadians, which was reported by him to be friendly. Two 
Indian runners who had been sent with him betrayed their trust, and convey- 
ed intelligence of the invasion to the governor of Quebec, who was thus put 
upon his guard against surprise. The passage of the wilderness had taken the 
Americans so much longer than was expected, that their provisions were now 
wholly exhausted. A dog that had followed them furnished a luxurious 
repast ; they were next reduced to boil their moose-skin moccassins in the vain 
hopes of extracting nourishment, and the pungent roots of the forest were de- 
voured with all the eagerness of famine. For forty-eight hours no food had 
passed their lips. Arnold hurried forward with the least exhausted, to pro- 
cure relief for his starving troops. Embarking on the lake, he followed the 
unexplored stream of the Chaudriere, but before long his barks were over- 
turned among foaming rapids, and his men with difficulty saved. At length 
they reached Sertigan, the first settlement of the French Canadians, who re- 
ceived them kindly and furnished them with provisions, which, as soon as his 
own wants were supplied, were sent back by Arnold to his suffering followers, 
who were thus enabled to advance, and at length the whole army, the wilder- 
ness behind them, joyfully assembled at Sertigan. 

Arnold now distributed to the Canadians the printed manifesto of Wash- 
ington, inviting them to join their American brethren, but the contented " habi- 



1775.] MONTGOMERY JOINS WITH ARNOLD. 371 

tans " had no inducement to quit the neutrality which they had hitherto pru- 
dently observed. Eager to strike the blow before Quebec could be placed 
in a posture for defence, he hastened rapidly down the valley of the Chaudriere, 
and at length, to the astonishment and alarm of the Canadians, to whom the 
governor had not thought fit to communicate his knowledge of the expedition, 
suddenly emerged through showers of falling snow upon the heights of Point 
Levi, exactly opposite the city. 

Foaming with impatience, Arnold would have lost not a moment in crossing 
over, and had he been able to do so, might not improbably have succeeded in 
storming Quebec ; but the governor had retained all the boats on the opposite 
shore, and for several days it blew such a tempest of wind and sleet, that all 
communication with the opposite shore became impossible. Having at length 
obtained a small suj^ ply of barks, Arnold crossed over under cover of the night, 
eluding two ships of war placed to intercept him, and hurrying up the same 
ravine which Wolfe had before ascended to victory, stood, as morning dawned, 
upon the memorable Plains of Abraham ; but only, after such infinite toils, 
to awake to a conviction of the almost hopelessness of his enterprise. He had 
calculated on surprising the city, and found it already on its guard. The number 
of his men was but seven hundred and fifty, without artillery, and with damaged 
muskets; while the enemy were receiving reinforcements. The lieutenant- 
governor, knowing the disaffection of the Canadians, declined to march out and 
attack him. After some empty demonstrations, Arnold resolved to put a bold 
front upon the matter by sending a flag with a formal summons to surrender, to 
the British commandant, who only fired upon the bearer. In this ridiculous piece 
ot bravado, which disgusted his own officers, Arnold, it was said, had a private 
motive to gratify. The British, aware of his antecedents, had liberally stig- 
matized him as " the horse-jockey,^^ an aff"ront he was anxious to wipe out by 
this display of importance. Finding all his efforts fruitless, he retired in 
infinite vexation to Point aux Trembles, there to await the arrival of INIont- 
gomery and his troops. He had scarcely reached this spot, when his chagrin 
was increased at learning that Sir Guy Carleton, who, as before said, had 
escaped from Montreal, had but just left it for Quebec, and shortly afterwards 
was heard the booming of the cannon which welcomed his return to the city. 

On the 1st of December, Montgomery made his appearance from Montreal 
with a forlorn handful of troops, way-worn and sick ; and he now took the 
command of the whole American force, which amounted only to nine hundred 
men. After clothing the half-naked troops of Arnold with garments he had 
brought with him, the whole force set forward together for Quebec. On 
their march thither, they were now exposed to all the severities of a Canadian 
winter ; the driving sleet beat fiercely in their faces, the road was cum- 
bered with huge drifts of snow, and in the open and unsheltered country the 
cold was almost beyond endurance. Such was the season when the American 
troops commenced the siege of Quebec, furnished only Avith a few feeble guns, 
which were reared on batteries of snow and ice, and produced no effect 
whatever upon the solid ramparts that confronted them. For three weeks 

3 B 2 



372 THE DEATH OF MONTGOMERY. [1775. 

they continued nevertheless to abide the bitter severity of the weather, until 
the small-pox broke out in the camp, the term of enlistment of many of the 
troops had nearly expired, discontent and despondency began to prevail, and 
Montgomery perceived that nothing but engaging them in some vigorous 
effort could keep his disorganized ranks much longer from falling to pieces. 

In venturing upon this enterprise, the Americans had fully calculated on 
the co-operation of a strong body of the discontented within the city, but on 
the arrival of Carleton, all hope from that quarter had vanished. Scarcely had 
that active and able officer regained the city, than he adopted the most vigorous 
measures of defence, overawed the disaffected, organized the citizens into 
regiments, and soon raised the feeble garrison to a much larger number than 
that of the besiegers themselves. It was in vain that Montgomery, artfully 
exaggerating the number of his troops, summoned him to surrender under 
pain of an assault ; aware that the Americans could not much longer maintain 
their position, he stood calmly but firmly upon the defensive. 

Nothing therefore remained to Montgomery and Arnold, but to try the 
last cles^^erate chance of an assault. To retire from before the city without 
striking a blow, even if it should prove unsuccessful, would be alike ruinous 
to their own reputation, and mournfidly discouraging to the American cause. 
It was arranged therefore, that while one body of the troops were to make a 
feigned attack upon the upper iorwn from the Plains of Abraham, Mont- 
gomery and Arnold, at the head of their respective divisions, should endeavour 
to storm the lower town at tAvo opposite points, and, in the event of success, 
unite their forces and proceed to invest the upper town and citadel. 

It was on the last day of the year seventeen hundred and seventy-five, in 
the thick gloom of an early morning, while the snow was falling fast, and the 
cutting wind whirling it about in heavy drifts, that Montgomery, at the head 
of his New York troops, proceeded along the narrow road leading under the 
foot of the precipices from Wolfe's Cove into the lower town of Quebec. 
At the entry of the street, crouching beneath the lofty rock of Cape'Diamond, 
was planted a block-house, its guns pointed carefully so as to sweep the ap- 
j) roach. This post was manned by a Captain Barnsfare, with a few British sea- 
men and a body of Canadian militia. As Montgomery approached in the dark- 
ness, along a roadway encumbered with heaps of ice and snow, he encountered 
a line of stockades, part of "VAhich he saAved tlu'ough Avith his OAvn hands, and 
having at length opened a passage, exclaiming to his troops, " Men of New 
York, you will not fear to follow where your general leads," he rushed for- 
ward to storm the block-house. But the vigilant officer had faintly descried 
the approach of the besiegers, and Avhen they Avere Avithin a fcAV paces, the 
fatal match was applied, a hurricane of grape-shot swept the pass, and the 
gallant Montgomery fell dead upon the spot. AVith him were struck down 
Captains Cheesman and M'Pherson, his aides-de-camp, and several among the 
foremost soldiers. Cheesman had repaired to the attack Avith a fuU presenti- 
ment he should never smwive it; he arose for a moment, staggered wildly 
ouAvards a fcAV paces, and sunk upon the snow -^ corn^e The rest nf thp di- 



1775.] . ARNOLD OBLIGED TO RETIRE. 373 

vision, panic struck at witnessing tlie fall of their leaders, gave np all hopes 
of success, and retreated in confusion back to the spot whence they had 
started. 

Arnold, meanwhile, at the head of the other division, had pushed along 
through the snow-drifts to the narrow street called " Sault an Matelot," de- 
fended by a two-gun battery ; and here, while impetuously urging forward 
his men, he was completely disabled by a musket-wound in the knee, and 
carried back to the hospital, where he learned that Montgomery had already 
fallen. Morgan now succeeded to the command, and fought so bravely Avith 
his riflemen, that in spite of the storm of grape-shot and musket-balls, he car- 
ried the first barrier, and hurried on to the assault of the second. Here a 
severe conflict took place ; the small body of the Americans, in the heart of a 
hostile city, for three hours bravely kej)t up the attack ; they stormed the bar- 
rier, and were preparing to rush into the town, when they were intercepted 
by the bayonets of a powerful detachment sent out by Carleton to take them 
in the rear and cut off their retreat, and compelled to surrender themselves 
as prisoners of war. 

Thus ended the famous assault of Quebec, which, desperate as it "would well 
seem, might nevertheless have succeeded, had not Montgomery perished at the 
very outset, and his column been forced to retreat. , As soon as the fight had 
ended, search was made for his body, but the American orderly sergeant, Avho 
lingered for another hour, would not acknowledge that his general was dead^ 
and it was not until the corpse was recognised by one of the American 
officers, that Carleton received the assurance that his gallant adversary was in- 
deed no more. He manifested evident symptoms of sincere and generous 
emotion, nor did he fail to acquire the general respect of his adversaries by 
the humanity which he disj)layed towards his American prisoners. 

The death of Montgomery caused the most genuine sorrow throughout the 
colonies. Not only were his military talents most promising, and his bravery 
distinguished, but his gentleness and humanity rendered him universally be- 
loved by his own soldiers, who almost worshipped him, and no less by all 
classes of persons with whom he came in contact. His early fate might well 
call forth tears of commiseration and gratitude from the Americans. Happily 
settled in New York, devotedly attached to his family and friends, he left 
the bosom of domestic tranquillity to sacrifice his life to the cause of his 
countrymen. His last words to his wife, when he left to assume the command 
of this ill-fated expedition, were, " You shall have no cause to blush for your 
Montgomery ! " He nobly redeemed his pledge, and though the expedition 
was a failure, his memory is justly revered by the grateful posterity of those 
for whom he gave his life. His body, at first interred with every honour at 
Quebec, Avas afterwards removed to Ncav York, Avhere a monument erected to 
him on the Avail of Trinity church, attracts the eye of the traveller as he ad- 
vances up the principal street of that great commercial emporium, a memento 
of the sacrifices at which the independence of America was achieved. Nor 
were the English themselves less generous in appreciating the noble qualities 



374 THE AMERICAN ARMY LEA VES CANADA. ' [1775. 

of an enemy, for Chatham, Burke, and Barre pronounced a glowing eulogium 
upon Montgomery in the English parliament. 

After his disastrous re^^ulse, Arnold, now promoted to the rank of briga- 
dier-general, retired with his small remaining force to a distance of about 
three miles from Quebec, and endeavoured to maintain during the rest of the 
winter a sort of blockade ; while Carleton remained quietly within the walls of 
the city, awaiting the Arrival of troops from England. Congress continued to 
send reinforcements, until the army was at length swelled to three thousand men, 
and General Wooster arrived to take the chief command, when Arnold, unwilling 
to serve under this officer, obtained permission to retire to INIontreal. The rest of 
the campaign was but a constant succession of disasters. General Thomas, who 
succeeded to Montgomery, arrived early in May, and after calling a council of 
war, was in the act of removing his forces to a greater distance from the city, 
when one morning several ships were seen to enter the harbour and throw fresh 
troops into the town ; and at one o'clock Carleton made a sortie at the head of a 
thousand men, capturing all the stores and sick, whom he treated, as he had 
done his other prisoners, with the utmost humanity. General Thomas retired 
to the Sorel, where he fell a victim to the small-pox, then raging violently in 
the American camp. Sullivan, who succeeded Thomas, made an ineffectual 
attack upon a British corps, while another American post, at the Cedars, shortly 
afterwards surrendered. Burgoyne, pressing forward with a vastly superior 
body of troops, finally drove the American army before him out of Canada, to 
use the words of John Adams, " disgraced, defeated, discontented, dispirited^ 
diseased, undisciplined, eaten up with vermin, no clothes, beds, blankets, 
nor medicines, and no victuals but salt pork and flour." INIontreal, with 
Ports Chambly and St. John's, were recovered by the English ; Avhile the 
American army retreated down Laiie Champlain to Crown Point, where its dis- 
organized battalions were placed under the command of Mnjor-Gcncral Gates. 
Thus terminated this romantic but unfortunate campaign, in which the young 
and ardent spirits of the revolution had displayed a bravery and endurance 
equal to any recorded in history. Its failure was regarded at the time as a 
great misfortune, while in reality it Avas perhaps rather an advantage to the 
Americans, who could ill have afforded to spare the forces necessary to have 
maintained so extensive a line of operations. The failure of the Canadian 
expedition led in fact to the capture of Burgoyne. 

Meanwhile Washington remained at Cambridge, occupied with the reorgan- 
ization of the American army. The time was drawing near when ths troops, 
by agreement, were free to depart to their homes, and a large proportion were 
inclined to do so. The first impulse of patriotic fervour had abated, the rigour 
of military discipline was irksome, and the tedium of inaction intolerable. To 
this subject Washington had earnestly drawn the attention of congress, and a 
convention, of which Pranklin was a member, was appointed to confer with 
him upon it, who readily adopted his j)roposal, which had been already well 
considered in concert with his officers. The principle of the arrangement 
was, that the American army ought to be twice as large as that of the enemy in 



1 775, 76. ] WA SHING TON'S DIFFIC UL TIES WITH THE A RMY. 375 

Boston, and to consist of twenty-six regiments, besides corps of riflemen and ar- \ 
tillery, amounting in all to about twenty-two thousand men. Of these regiments 
Massachusetts was to furnish sixteen, Connecticut, five. New Hampshire three, 
and Rhode Island two. The officers were to be selected by Washington, as 
far as possible, out of those aheady in service. This proved to be a task 
both delicate and difficult. In the ill-compacted state of the army, which 
threatened to dissolve itself like a rope of sand, it was indispensable to con- 
ciliate the soldiers, who refused to renew their engagements unless permitted 
to serve under officers to whom they had become attached, but who neverthe- 
less might not be tfie most fitted for their respective posts. It was also neces- 
sary to adjust the number of officers to that of the troops furnished by the re- 
spective colonies, jealous as they were of each other's precedency and influence. 
By a mind less deeply imbued with patriotism, or a temper less firm and yet 
conciliating, than that of Washington, such a task might have been well thrown 
up in disgust. As it Avas, he could not fail sometimes to complain of aii egre- 
gious want of public spirit, and of " fertility in all the low arts of obtaining 
advantage," which the settlement of these intricate and conflicting claims had 
so unhappily called forth. The task of managing his new recruits is also 
feelingly alluded to by him. " There is great difficulty," he observes, " to 
support liberty, to exercise government, and maintain subordination, and at 
the same time to prevent the operation of licentious and levelling principles, 
which many very easily imbibe. The pulse of a New England man beats high 
for liberty, his engagement in the service he thinks purely voluntary, therefore 
when the time of enlistment is out, he thinks himself not holden without 
further engagement. This was the case in the last war. I' greatly fear its 
operation amongst the soldiers of the other colonies, as I am sensible this is 
the spirit and genius of our people." These discouraging anticipations were 
fully justified. With aU his eflbrts and concessions, enlistments could only be 
procured for a single year, the Connecticut regiments marched oflfeven before 
their time was up, and it became necessary to supply the gap by calling in 
the local militia. This step, though absolutely necessary, occasioned no 
little uneasiness and jealousy. The same dread of military domination to 
which we have already alluded, haunted the minds of the patriots, and to 
allay suspicion it became necessary to arrange that the comniander-in-chief 
should obtain the consent of the executive of each colony bei'cre he called out 
its militia. Every way he was hedged in and crippled. Add to this, that the 
supply of ammunition still remained very defective, that the artillery de- 
partment was miserably organized, and it will be evident that nothing but 
extreme fortitude and perseverance could have enabled Washington to sur- 
mount such accumulated and discouraging obstacles. 

To render his situation more distressing, he very well knew that the public, 
ignorant of his real situation, were growing impatient at the inaction of 
the army, and anxious to see the enemy driven from Boston by some brilliant 
and striking exploit. Aware of the general state of feeling, corgrcss had 
already pointedly suggested, that, " if he thought it practicable to defeat the 



376 WANT OF AMMUNITION AMONG THE AMERICAN S.[lTih,lQ. 

enemy and gain possession of the town, it would be advisable to make the 
attack upon the first favourable occasion, and before the arrival of reinforce- 
ments." Yet with the slow progress of the recruiting, and above all, with a 
deficiency of arms and ammunition so serious that it became necessary to 
conceal it even from the army itself, such a step would have been little short 
of madness. Washington has been generally called the American Fabius, and 
it has been supposed that his temperament and policy rendered him averse to 
active measures. So far from this, the very reverse was the case, and had he 
sufifered his inclination to outweigh the dictates of prudence, there is little 
doubt but that he would have seized the earliest opportunity of attacking the 
enemy. But upon calling a council of war, the most experienced officers 
opposed themselves to this plan. Conscious that by these delays the enthu- 
siasm of the country was likely to grow cold, and his own reputation to be 
imperiled, his feelings broke forth with bitterness in his correspondence. 
" Could I have foreseen the difficulties," said he, " which have come upon us, 
could I have known that such backwardness would have been discovered by 
old soldiers to the service, all the generals upon earth should not have con- 
vinced me of the propriety of delaying an attack upon Boston until this time." 
" I know," he says in another letter to a friend, "the unhappy predicament in 
which I stand. I know that much is expected from me. I know that, with- 
out men, Avitliout arms, Avithout ammunition, without any thing fit for the ac- 
commodation of a soldier, little is to be done; and what is mortifying, I know 
that I cannot stand justified to the world Avithout exposing my own weakness, 
and injuring the cause by declaring my wants, which I am determined not to 
do, further than unavoidable necessity brings every man acquainted with 
them. My situation is so irksome to me at times, that if I did not consult the 
public good more than my own tranquillity, I should long ere this have put 
every thing on the cast of a die. So fiir from my having an army of twenty 
thousand men well armed, I have been here with less than half that number, 
including sick, furloughed, and on command, and those neither armed nor 
clothed as they should be. In short, my situation has been such, that I have 
been obliged to use every art to conceal it from my own officers." 

Besides the superintendence of the army, there devolved on Washington, 
in the present unsettled, state of affairs, the necessity of arming vessels to 
obstruct the supplies received by the enemy, and to procure those required 
by the continental army. Already had the British cruisers commenced that 
career of vindictive destruction, which envenomed the feelings of the 
colonists beyond the power of healing, and sowed the seeds of an animosity 
which -has not wholly died out, even at the present day. The loading of a royal 
mast ship having been obstructed at Falmouth in Massachusetts, Captain 
Mowatt was detached by Admiral Graves, Avith several armed vessels, in order 
to demand redress. The inhabitants were required to deliver up their arms 
and ammunition, to send on board a sujDply of provisions, four carriage guns, 
and several of the principal inhabitants as hostages that they Mould not engage 
in active opposition to the English. These conditions were refused by the 



1775, 7G.] CONDITION OF THE ENGLISH IN BOSTON. 377 

towns-people, who occupied the night in the removal of their families and effects. 
The next morning the place was bombarded, and the inhabitants, standing 
upon the neighbouring heights, were doomed to witness the remorseless con- 
flagration of their homes. Mowatt attempted to land, but the inhabitants 
stood to their arms, and gallantly repulsed him. Other towns on the coast 
were compelled to furnish a supply of provisions to escape a similar fate. 
These hostilities speedily led to the equipping of vessels to harass and inter- 
cept the English store-ships, and also to prevent the enemy from obtaining 
supplies along the coast. Massachusetts, as usual, took the initiative, by passing 
a law to encourage the fitting out of privateers, and a court for the trial and 
condenniation of j)irates. Several vessels were sent out by Washington, but 
manned by officers and men from the army, and commissioned, as " a detach- 
ment of the army," to cruise against the enemy's ships. It was but natural 
that many of these officers should have proved incompetent, but there were 
some remarkable exceptions. Captain Manly of IMarblchead, in the schooner 
Lee, captured an ordonnance brig from Woolwich laden with cannon and am- 
munition, which proved highly serviceable to Washington's army. The as- 
sembly of liliode Island, whose coasts were peculiarly exposed, now called 
the attention of the colonial congress to the subject of a naval force. A INIa- 
rine Committee was appointed, regulations drawn up, and several frigates 
ordered to be built, — the nucleus of that American navy, which has suice ob- 
tained so brilliant and world-wide a reputation. 

Meanwhile the position of the English in Boston became every day more 
critical. The post of Lord Howe was far from being enviable. He was un- 
able to adopt offensive measures, and could not hope much longer to maintain 
himself in the city. During the winter the troops had suffered severely 
from the want of fuel and fresh provisions. Large supplies had been sent 
from England for their relief, but many of the vessels bearing them had been 
intercepted by the American privateers, and it was found to be almost im- 
possible to levy contributions on the coasts. Provisions became excessively 
scarce and dear, and before the winter was over horseflesh was not refused by 
such as were able to obtain it. The soldiers who remained all the season on 
the bleak slope of Bunker's Hill, in canvass tents, suffered intensely. It became 
necessary to strip the churches of their benches and wood-work, and even to 
pull down uninhabited houses, in order to procure fuel. Several hundred of 
useless mouths were sent out of the city. The old south church, the scene 
of so many popular meetings, was emptied and turned into a riding school, 
and the British officers amused themselves with getting up balls and theatri- 
cals. Cooped up and starved in this city, Avhich was besides too far north to 
form a good centre of military operations, General Howe would have eva- 
cuated it before the winter set in, but for the want of vessels. To expel him 
by force was now earnestly desired by congress, and they warmly urged 
Washington to make a vigorous effort for this important object. But Wash- 
ington needed no urging on their part. By dint of constant exertion, he had 
by this time brought the army into a better condition ; and so soon as the ice 

3 c 



378 WASHINGTON BEGINS TO BOMBARD THE CITY. [177G. 

had formed, which occurred about the middle of February, he called a coun- 
cil of his oihcers, and proposed to cross over and make an immediate attack 
upon the city. This project however was considered imprudent by the council, 
the fortifications having been greatly strengthened by the British. At this 
disappointment Washington was deeply chagrined. " Though we had been 
waiting all the year for this favourable event," said he, " the enterprise was 
thought too dangerous. Perhaps it was ; perhaps the irksomeness of my 
situation led me to undertake more than could be warranted by prudence. I 
did not think so, and I am sure yet, that the enterprise, if it had been under- 
taken with^i-esolution, must have succeeded; without it, any would fail." A 
less hazardous but no less effectual method of expelling the British was sug- 
gested by Ward and Gates. Dorchester heights, as we have already observed, 
situated to the southward of Boston, completely commanded the town and 
harbour. To raise batteries upon that point must therefore inevitably compel 
Lord Howe either to evacuate the city, or come forth to attack the intrench- 
ments ; and in this event Washington determined to profit by the abstraction 
pf the English forces, and to make an attempt upon Boston. 

This plan was carried out with extraordinary activity, and crowned with 
complete success. A vast quantity of fascines and gabions had been prepared, 
and to cover their design, and distract the British, some powerful batteries 
established at Cop's Hill and other places, were opened on the 2nd of JNIarch, 
and began to bombard the city, which was soon in flames in various places, 
though the fire was extinguished by the activity of the soldiers. This cannonad- 
ing was kej)t up the next two nights, and on the evening of the 4th of 
March, amid the prevailing confusion, while the thunder and smoke of 
the artillery prevented their movements from being heard or seen, a consider- 
able detachment under General Ward, furnished with abundant munitions, 
prepared to set out on this important adventure. 

It was a mild night for the season, but the ground was frozen impenetrably 
hard, as the troops passed stealthily across the low peninsula, leading from the 
mainland to the heights, — exposed, should they be discovered, to a sweeping 
cannonade from the British men-of-Avar in the harbour. Not a soul however 
perceived them ; they rapidly ascended the heights, and set to work with such 
extraordinary activity, that before ten at night they had already constructed 
two redoubts snfiicient to protect them from musketry. They laboured on 
strenuously until morning, and as the mists gradually rolled ofl", the new in- 
trenchments, constructed in a single night, loomed upon the astonished eyes 
of the British officers, as they afterwards declared, like the work of an oriental 
necromancer. It was no dream however, but a substantial reality, and soon 
as the admiral had reconnoitred the works, he declared that unless the enemy 
were promjitly dislodged from them, it would be impossible for his vessels to 
remain in the bay without running the most imminent risk of destruction. The 
city and isthmus were no less exposed to the provincial artillery, and Lord 
Howe had therefore no alternative but to despatch a body of three thousand 
troops under Lord Percy to exj)el the Americans from the heights. 



1770.] THE BRITISH EVACUATE BOSTON. 379 

In anticipation of tliis result, the intrencliments were completed with care, 
the militia of the neighbourhood assembled, and signals arranged on the chain 
of heights round the city for the more rapid transmission of orders. Wash- 
ington exhorted his soldiers to remember Bunker's Hill. In case the enemy 
should fail in their attack, he had aj)pointed four thousand chosen men under 
the command of Sullivan and Greene, Avho should profit by the tumult and 
confusion, to cross over and assault the city. Lord Percy and his detachment 
prepared to cross over to Dorchester heights, where the Americans awaited 
them with enthusiastic determination, but the sinking of the tide and a violent 
wind rendered the embarkation impossible. The night was extremely tem- 
pestuous, and in the morning the agitated sea and heavy rain occasioned 
another unavoidable delay; and the Americans profited by this interval to 
increase the strength of their intrencliments, until they had become exceed- 
ingly formidable. The British general perceived that the attempt to storm 
them would be attended with considerable risk, and that, should his efforts be 
crowned with success, it would be a dear-bought and almost useless victory, 
inasmuch as it would be impossible to maintain himself much longer in the 
city. He therefore called a council of war, at which it was resolved to 
evacuate Boston, if suffered to retire without further molestation. This done, 
he summoned the principal inhabitants and informed' them of the resolution 
he had adopted, threatening at the same time that he would destroy the town, 
if disturbed during the embarkation of his soldiers. With this informal mes- 
sage he counselled them to repair to Washington, and a tacit understanding 
took place that the British should be allowed to retire peaceably. This being 
arranged, the embarkation was commenced at once, and occupied eleven days. 
The soldiers, five thousand in number, were doubtless glad to escape from 
what they had long felt to be a dishonourable prison, in v/liich they were suffer- 
ing severe privations; but it was far otherwise with the unhappy band of loy- 
alists, a thousand or fifteen hundred in number, members of the council, 
commissioners, custom-house ofEcers, clergymen, merchants, and mechanics, 
who were compelled to abandon for ever the homes of their fathers, 
leaving their property to be confiscated by the victors, and A^ith no other 
means of subsistence than the scanty rations allowed to the soldiers. During 
these gloomy days the disorder in the city was frightful. Fathers laden 
with baggage, mothers bearing their children, ran weeping towards the ships, 
the sick and the wounded, old men and children, hurrying together to the 
shore, with the licence of an infuriated soldiery, who plundered the houses, 
and wantonly destroyed what they could not carry a-\vay, j)resented one of the 
most fearful episodes of the miseries of civil war. During this scene of misery 
the Americans had constructed a redoubt on Nook's Hill, which commanded 
the peninsula at Dorchester. The situation of the army became critical in 
the extreme, the embarkation was hurriedly brought to a close, and at ten 
in the morning of the 17th of March, the fleet departed from Boston. 
Scarcely had the rearguard embarked, when Washington entered the city in 
triumph, and was received with enthusiasm by the patriotic inhabitants, who, 

3 c 2 



330 THE AFFAIRS OF VIRGIXIA. [1776. 

cut off for sixteen months from all commnnication with their brethren, had 
been exposed to the severest privations, and to the insults and outrages of the 
soldiery. Many of those who had been compelled to leave the city, dependent 
on charity for their support, noAv joyfully returned to their homes. Such 
loyalists as had ventured to remain behind were declared traitors to their 
country, and their property, with that of their departed brethren, was confis- 
cated and put up to sale for public benefit. A considerable quantity of can- 
non and stores had been reluctantly left behind by the British, who had 
spiked several guns and thrown others into the sea. 

AVhile in the northern States the dispute had proceeded even to bloodshed, 
in the southern also matters had been carried to a point of incurable hostility. 
The prominent part taken by the Virginians, ever since the beginning of the 
dissensions, has been already traced, and will have sufficiently shown the at- 
titude of mutual defiance in which the governors and people then stood. 
Lord Dunmore, who had greatly distinguished himself by his defence of the 
frontier against the Indians, was a man of great energy and activity of character, 
but who, far from being endued with that tact and supj)leness necessary to 
allay the popular irritation, by his rash, inconsiderate, and vindictive conduct, 
hurried it forward to the highest possible pitch. The provincial congress of 
Virginia having ordered a levy of volunteers, Dunmore secretly removed the 
public powder by night, and when its restoration was energetically demanded 
by the people, he refused it upon the ground that they were in a state of 
virtual rebellion. He incautiously let fall the most violent threats, talked of 
liberating the negro slaves, and rallying them around the standard of the king. 
In the midst of the excitement thus produced, arrived the news of the rout 
of the English troops at Lexington. On learning the removal of the powder, 
a body of volunteers, headed by Patrick Henry, marched ujion Williamsburg, 
for the purpose of obtaining its .recovery by force, and did not retire until 
they had obtained bills to the amount of the stores carried away. The 
governor retorted by issuing a proclamation declaring Henry and his com- 
panions to be rebels, a proceeding which, while it intimidated nobody, on the 
contrary tended still further to exasperate the great body of the people. 

Matters remained in this uneasy state until the arrival of Lord North's 
conciliatory measure, which Dunmore laid before the assembly with the 
lingering hope that it might allay the general agitation. But here, as in 
the other colonies, this insidious measure was contemptuously rejected, and 
the people, their minds being fully made uj), determined to take the redress 
of grievances into their own hands, and they proceeded to attack the arsenal, 
to obtain the recovery of the jiublic stores. The governor, alarmed for his 
personal safety, retired on board a ship of war with his family, whence the 
assembly invited him to return to Williamsburg and resume his functions. 
This he however refused to do, and this refusal being regarded by the as- 
sembly as a virtual abdication of his office, from that moment the royal 
government in Virginia may be said to have come to an end, being immedi- 
ately succeeded by apo^aular convention, with an executive committee of safety. 



1776.] COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES. 381 

HIgMy exasperated by tliis expulsion from his government, and fully 
counting upon the co-operation of a large body of loyalists, Lord Dunmore 
now commenced an ignoble system of hostilities, resembling rather the preda- 
tory attacks of a horde of corsairs than the proceedings of civilized warfare. 
Having collected a considerable naval force, he proclaimed martial law, de- 
clared that all slaves belonging to the rebels were henceforth free, and invited 
them to join the royal standard ; thus endeavouring to add the horrors of a 
war of races to that aheady subsisting between men of the same blood and 
language. In consequence of this proclamation, a considerable number of 
fugitive slaves soon joined his standard, with a large body of loyalists, which 
it required the utmost eiforts of the Virginia convention to keep in check. 
Having collected a considerable force, the ex-governor then proceeded across 
the Great Bridge, a long and narrow pass, which formed the only access to 
the tovv'n of Norfolk, then become the most flourishing sea-port of Virginia. 
Here he endeavoured to establish himself with his adherents, and fortified the 
bridge end for this purpose. A vigorous and successful assault was made 
uj)on it by the Virginia militia, and Dunmore, finding the position untenable, 
was compelled to retire again on board his ships. 

The most bitter animosity now raged between the patriot and the loyalist 
parties. On the evacuation of Norfolk a large body of the latter took refuge 
on board the fleet, while those who remained behind were exposed to all the 
rancour of their victorious enemies. Their bitter complaints reached Lord 
Dunmore, who, being joined by a frigate, threatened, unless they ceased 
to fire upon his ships, and sent to him a supply of provisions, to lay the town 
in ashes upon the following morning. Meeting only Avith a refusal, he pro- 
ceeded to bombard Norfolk, and thus one of the most flourishing sea-ports in 
America fell a prey to the horrors of civil war. 

Meanwhile Dunmore had left no means untried of raising a party for the 
royal cause. He had commissioned one Conolly as lieutenant-colonel, and 
sent him into the back provinces of Virginia to raise a regiment from among 
the settlers, and even, it was said, to induce the Indians to take part in the 
disjiute. Conolly however A\as intercepted, and sent prisoner to Phila- 
delphia. 

Unable as he was to reduce the province to obedience, Dunmore continued 
during the whole summer to carry on a system of vengeful depredations 
upon the estates of such of the patriots as, from their situation on the banks of 
the numerous rivers with Avhich Virginia is intersected, lay helpless and open 
to attack. He burned the houses of the planters, ravaged their estates, and 
carried ofl" their slaves, and after inflicting an iinmense amount of wanton in- 
jury, pursued from place to place, was at last compelled to retire from the 
province, accompanied by the general detestation of the people over whom 
he had once presided with honouT, having, as the sole result, eradicated from 
the breasts of the patriotic party in Virginia the last lingering vestiges 
of loyalty, and greatly precipitated the growing feeling in favour of inde- 
pendence. 



382 LOYALIST RISING IN NORTH CAROLINA, [1776. 

The disasters of the Americans in Canada were counterbalanced by their 
successes in the southern provinces. After the departure of the English troops 
from Boston, General Clinton had been despatched from Halifax with a body 
of troops destined for the coast of Carolina. In the province of North Caro- 
lina a considerable body of Scotch higlilanders had settled, animated by a 
strong feeling of loyalty, as were also the " Regulators," already spoken of. 
With the aid of these men, together with a large body of troops which were 
shortly expected from Ireland, and the detachment of Clinton, Governor 
Martin had confidently expected to reduce the colony to obedience. Two 
highland officers, named M'Donald and M'Leod, succeeded in raising a 
body of loyalists, with which they attempted to march down to the coast and 
await the expected succours. In order to do this it was necessary to pass over 
Moore's Creek bridge, near Wilmington, which had been strongly occupied 
by a j)arty of the continental militia. Advancing bravely at the head of his 
men to carry this bridge, M'Leod fell mortally wounded, and the whole of his 
column were either killed or taken prisoners. 

Clinton, in the mean while, after touching at New York, where his arrival 
occasioned considerable alarm, repaired to the rendezvous at Cape Fear, but 
on learning the disastrous issue of the loyalist rising, determined to await the 
arrival of the reinforcements, which, after a wearisome delay, at length made 
their appearance. They consisted of ten ships of war under Admiral Sir Peter 
Parker, having on board seven regiments, commanded by Lord Cornwallis 
and other distinguished officers. Clinton now assumed the command, and as 
there was now no hope of acting advantageously in North Carolina, it was 
resolved to strike a still more decisive blow by the capture of Charleston, an 
operation considered to be by no means difficult in itself, and which would 
have the effect of rendering the English entire masters of South Carolina. 

Had the meditated attack been suddenly made there can be little doubt 
that it must have proved successful. But on the contrary there occurred 
a considerable delay, and having been informed of the project through some 
irntercepted letters to Governor Eden, congress had time to despatch General 
Lee to Charleston to put the place into a state of defence. At the first alarm, 
various regiments had marched down to the city, increasing its garrison to 
about six thousand men. Assisted by the inhabitants and their negro slaves, 
they laboured most indefatigably to complete the fortifications. All the 
roads running down to the sea were blockaded, the streets barricaded, 
the magazines destroyed, intrenchments raised, and every possible means 
adopted to obstruct the advance of the English. With all this, however. 
General Lee could entertain no very sanguine hopes of defending the city 
against the imposing force with which it was threatened. 

On June 4th, the English fleet made its appearance off Charleston Bay, and 
having passed the bar, anchored about three miles from Sullivan's Island. 
General Clinton despatched a summons to the inhabitants, threatening them 
with the utmost vengeance of an irritated government, unless they submit- 
ted, offering at the same time a complete amnesty to such as should lay 



1776.] UNSUCCESSFUL BOMBARDMENT OF CHARLESTON. 383 

down tlieir arms ; but this proceeding being entirely ineiFectual, lie prepared 
for an immediate attack upon the city. 

There was a fort upon Sullivan's Island, which, as it entirely commanded 
the difficidt channel leading up to the city, had been strengthened with pecu- 
liar carc^ and armed with thirty-six heavy guns, as well as twenty-six others of 
inferior calibre. The building was constructed of a soft and spongy wood, which 
deadened the effect of a cannon-ball, and was commanded by Colonel Moultrie, 
at the head of about three hundred and fifty troops, and some militia. To 
silence this fort was of course the first object of the British commander, and 
for this purpose he landed a large body of troops on Long Island, adjacent to 
Sullivan's Island, and only separated from it by a narrow channel, often 
fordable, with orders to cross over and attack it while the fleet cannonaded it 
in front. Great difficulty was experienced in the outset in getting the heavy 
ships of war over the bar, which could be effected only by taking out their 
guns. At length, on the 28th of June, the whole fleet placed themselves in 
line and began a furious cannonade on the devoted fort. Three of these ships, 
the Sphyx, Acteon, and Syren, were ordered to take up a position to the west- 
ward, where they could enfilade the weakest part of the works, and at the 
same time intercept any succours that might be sent from the city. Had 
this manoeuvre been successful, it would have been impossible for the fort 
to have held out; but fortunately for the Americans, the three vessels 
grounded on a shoal called the Middle Ground, two being with great diffi- 
culty got off, and one burned on the following day. This fortunate accident 
encouraged the spirit of the besiegers to the highest pitch, although but recent 
recriiits, and exposed for several hours to a most tremendous cannonade. 
Amidst a perfect hail-storm of bombs and balls, they coolly and resolutely 
stood to their guns, and returned the fire of their assailants, until their am- 
munition failed. As an instance of their daring intrepidity, the flag-staff 
being shot aAvay, a sergeant, named Jasper, leaped down upon the beach, 
and in the midst of the hottest broadside deliberately replaced it ujion its 
post. General Lee visited the garrison in the midst of the action, and was 
received with the greatest enthusiasm. The soldiers, shot down at their posts, 
exhorted their surviving comrades to stand firm. " I die," said Serjeant 
M'Donald, " for a glorious cause, but I hope it will not expire with me." So 
steady and well-directed was the American fire, that the English men-of-war 
were most severely handled. The Bristol, fifty -gun ship, was twice in flames, 
her captain was killed. Lord Campbell, the ex-governor, who served as a 
volunteer, was mortally wounded, and at one time Sir Peter Parker was the 
only one unhurt on deck. 

The troops intended to ford the channel and attack the fort in flank, were 
unable to pass over on account of the unusual depth of water, occasioned by a 
long prevalence of easterly winds. The flank attack by the vessels had also 
failed, and thus the Americans were enabled to pass over fresh ammunition 
and succours from the city into the fort. The engagement had lasted from 
eleven in the morning till nine in the evening, when the British, owing to the 



384 ENMITY BETWEEN THE CITIZENS. [1:73. 

accidental failuro of two jjarts of tlicir plan, and the intrepid resistance of tlie 
Americans, were forced to retire from the scene of action, and on the follow- 
ing day set sail, discomfited, for New York. 

Meanwliile, as the dispute with the jDarent country grew more envenomed, 
and all prospect of accommodation more hopeless, the hrcach between the 
two parties in the colonies became proportionally wider, and their animosity 
more inveterate and fearful. Many of the loyalists had at first sincerely 
disapproved pf the proceedings of government and sympathized Avith the 
discontented; but as the latter overstepped what seemed the limits of le- 
gitimate resistance, as the designs of the democratic leaders became more, 
evident — they hastened to retrace their steps, and range themselves on what 
they believed to be the side of lawful and time-hallowed authority. It is 
well observed by Guizot, that " sincere and honourable sentiments, fidelity, 
affection, gratitude, respect for traditions, and the love of order, were sjjccially 
the origin of the loyalist party, and comj^osed its strength." This party 
every where comj)rised a large proportion of the wealthy and respectable pro- 
prietors and merchants, the Episcopal clergy, the Quakers of Pennsylvania, 
and the Scotch Highlanders of New York, Carolina, and Georgia. Its great- 
est strength was however in the state of New York, and especially in Tryon 
county, so called after Governor Tryon, and where Guy Johnson, son of Sir 
"William Johnson, possessed a preponderating influence. Of this numerous 
class, the members more active in taking the side of government soon be- 
came the special objects of odium, and were exposed to the outrages of the 
populace, Avith whom it was a favourite amusement to tar and feather 
them, and expose them to the general derision. These proceedings ge- 
nerated a spmt of mutual hatred and revenge, Avhich by degress inflamed 
tlie breasts even of such of the Tories as desired at first to embrace a peaceful 
neutrality. After the assumption of political poAver by congress, the breach 
became incurable, neutrality no longer possible, the du'eful necessity that 
revolution brings with it, compelled every citizen to declare himself either the 
friend or foe of the popular side. At first congress obserAxd an extreme mo- 
deration towards the Tories, but as the quarrel proceeded, and every one's 
hand Avas against his fellow, as families Avcre diA'idcd, and a man's Avorst foes 
were those of his own household, it became unavoidable to observe a greater 
degree of rigour. Committees of safety — agents appointed to watch over 
the malignants — confiscations and imprisonments, became common. Private 
malevolence was often indulged under the guise of zeal for the public good. 
The peaceful and unoffending Avere dragged into the quarrel. The A\hole 
frame of society Avas rent asunder, till brothers were ready to imbrue their 
hands in each other's blood. 

The Tories Avere forced to make up by intrigue Avhat they wanted in 
strength. The centre of their machinations was Ncav York, Avhei'e the provincial 
assembly had at first refused to send delegates to the continental congress, but 
were outA-otcd by the popular party. GoA-ernor Tryon, Avho Avas much re- 
spected in the province, had recently returned from England, and it is a sin- 



1775.] THE FINAL PETITION OF CONGRESS. 385 

gular instance of tlie divided state of the city, tliat about the time tliat Wash- 
ington passed tlirougli New York on Ms way to Boston, to assume the command 
of the army, the same escort of honour was appointed both for the royal 
governor and for the American generaL Tryon however had at length seen 
fit to retire on board the Asia man-of-war, which lay opposite to the city, 
ready to open upon it on the occasion of any emergency. So lukewarm were 
the committee of safety, that it was thought prudent to detach some troops of 
Connecticut, under the command of General Lee, to insure the possession 
of this important post. The captain of the Asia, hearing of the approach of 
Lee's trooj^s, threatened to fire upon the city, if they were sufiered to take up 
their quarters. Lee retorted with a threat that displays the excited feelings 
of the time, " that if he set fire to a single house in consequence of his coming, 
he would chain a hundred Tories together by the neck, and make that house 
their funeral pile." 

On the following session of parliament, which opened in October, 1775, 
the measures of the ministry were severely canvassed by their opponents. 
The increasing gravity of the dispute envenomed party animosity to the 
highest pitch. Even some of the adherents of the ministry resigned their 
places rather than take part in their arbitrary measures. Petitions against the 
war flowed in from the mercantile interest. The citizens of London, who 
from the outset of the dispute had shoAved themselves the warm advocates of the 
rights of the colonists, and had raised subscriptions to relieve the sufferers by 
the Boston Port Bill, were loud and vehement in their complaints. Not- 
withstanding this storm of opposition the ministry, having a great majority, 
and supported or rather urged on by the king, were inflexible in their deter- 
mination to reduce the rebellious colonists by force. The Earl of'Efflngham, 
and the eldest son of Lord Chatham, had resigned their commissions in dis- 
gust, and as the recruiting of fresh forces went on but slowly, a body of Ger- 
man troojDS from Brunswick and Hesse were hired to make up the deficiency. 
No step during the whole of the dispute with America occasioned greater 
animadversion from the opposition, or sunk so deeply into the minds of the 
colonists themselves. The final petition of congress had been intrusted to the 
hands of Governor Penn, and presented to Lord Dartmouth, who informed him 
that no answer would be returned to it. When examined before the House, 
Penn gave it as his opinion that no designs of independency had hitherto 
been formed by congress, as none had indeed at that time been openly 
avowed; but the ministry Avere in possession of letters by John Adams, which 
plainly indicated the designs entertained by the popular party. The Duke 
of Pichmond moved that the petition of congress might be made the basis of 
a further reconciliation, and Burke introduced and powerfidly supported a 
bill for the repeal of the obnoxious Acts, granting an amnesty for the past, 
but his present efforts were as unsuccessful as the former. 

Besides the military invasion of the colonies, the ministry proceeded to 
prohibit all trade with them, and to declare their ships and goods, and also 
those of any trading Avith them, laAvful prizes. The cre^^'s of such vessels 

2, H 



386 CHANGE IN THE OBJECT OF THE COLONISTS. [1775. 

were to be seized and treated as slaves, — they were to be made to serve on 
board British ships of war ; a measure justly characterized by an indignant op- 
position as a "refinement in cruelty, " " a sentence worse than death," obliging 
the unhappy men who should be made captives in that predatory war to 
bear arms against their families, kindred, friends^ and country, and after being 
plundered themselves to become accomplices in plundering their brethren. 
The ministry proceeded in their cause, sustained as they were not only by the 
royal influence, and a preponderating majority in the House, but also, it must 
be confessed, by the general voice of the country , and to this infatuation, which 
closed the last avenue to hope, must be attributed the decisive measures 
shortly afterwards adopted by congress, and scission of the colonies from the 
empire of England, 

The contemptuous rejection of the petition of congress showed but too 
plainly that all hopes of accommodation were vain, and that nothing but the 
absolute submission of the colonists would satisfy the king and his ministers. 
The voting of a band of foreign mercenaries to carry fire and sword into 
America, formed the climax of a long list of grievances and injuries, which had 
gradually eaten away the last lingering vestiges of loyalty. The king of 
England was formerly regarded as the father of his childi'en in America ; he 
had now become their sanguinary and implacable foe, and had pledged his 
royal word to overcome theu' obstinacy, and to reduce them to obedience. 
Blood had been shed, angry and vindictive feelings every where called into 
action, and a cordial reconciliation had become impossible. And even should 
the present difficulties be accommodated, what security would there be for 
the future ? Hitherto, in the hope of ultimate reconciliation, a large body 
among the Americans had deprecated any intention to throw oflf the yoke of the 
parent country, but by the measures of government their minds had become 
gradually prepared for a change, and noAV that the last hope of accommodation 
had vanished, it was felt to be high time to quit their present false position, 
and assume that which the altered aspect of the quarrel imperatively required. 

Nothing could in truth, as it has been well observed, be more incongruous 
than the position of the colonies at that time towards Great Britain. " The war 
which they had vigorously waged for an entire year was directed against a king 
to whom protestations of loyalty were in ccesantly renewed, and the very men 
who were engaged in acts of rebellion shrunk from the name of rebels. In 
the tribunals justice was still administered in the name of the king, and 
prayers were every day offered up for the preservation and welfare of a prince 
whose authority was not only ignored, but against whom a determined and 
obstinate contest was maintained. The colonists pretended that they only 
desired to resume their ancient relations, and re-establish the royal government 
in its original shape, when in fact the repubhcan system had long been 
introduced. They declared it to be their wish to arrive at a certain end, 
while they recurred to every means which tended to conduct them to the 
contrary one. Never, in a word, had there been seen before such inconsistency 
between words and actions." Doubtless, as will have abeady appeared, there 



1775.] FIR8T THOUGHTS OF INDEPENDENCE. 387 

■was from the first a party more far-sighted and determined, wlio not only 
secretly desired but incessantly laboured to bring about a result in itself so 
desirable, and necessary to the development of tbeir country, as independence. 
This however was far from being generally the case. However inconsistent 
with their actions, the wishes of the majority had hitherto been undoubtedly 
for a reconciliation. They looked to the old country with affection, they were 
proud of their connexion with her, and they felt it to be painful, perhaps 
criminal, to break so ancient a bond. 

It was at this critical period, while this feeling, though inoperative, yet lin- 
gered in the minds of the people, and when, although the thing itself had 
become familiarized to most minds as equally necessary and desirable, every 
one held back from boldly pronouncing the word independence, that there 
appeared a pamphlet called " Common Sense," written by Thomas Paine, the 
celebrated author of the Rights of INIan, who had recently emigrated from 
England, and ardently embraced the American cause. Perceiving this hesi- 
tation in the public mind, he set himself to the work of dissipating it by a clear 
and convincing statement of the actual position of affairs. He plainly exposed 
the impossibility of a lasting reconciliation with England, and showed that in- 
dependence had not only become the only safe or honourable course, but that it 
was as practicable as it was desirable. PevicAving the British constitution, he 
attributed to the element of royalty alone the numerous evils which attended 
its working, evils by which the Americans themselves had already suffered so 
deeply, and of which they had it now in their power to get rid. This pamphlet, 
written in a popular and convincing style, and expressly adapted to the state 
of public feeling, produced an indescribable sensation. The ice was now 
broken ; those who, although convinced, had hitherto held back, came boldly 
forward, while many who had halted between two opinions now yielded to the 
force of necessity aiid embraced the popular side. 

When once the idea of independence began to be generally entertained, its 
fitness to the circumstances of the country must have rendered it irresistible. 
It opened to the people magnificent visions of the future greatness of America, 
when untrammcled by foreign control. She had grown up to full maturity, 
her resources were boundless as her territory, the different colonies had to a con- 
siderable degree merged their local jealousies in the common cause, they had 
become acquainted with their own strength and resources, and could no longer 
brook their degrading dependence upon a distant and arbitrary power. The 
time was ripe, circumstances propitious, the hand of Providence plainly visible. 
The cause of America was regarded abroad with a sjonpathy inflamed by 
jealousy of the colossal and overgrown power of England. France, her ancient 
and implacable foe, burned to avenge her Canadian disgraces, and to humble 
the glory and weaken the resources of her victorious rival. Her assistance 
might certainly be counted on. Every motive then — the sense of cruel oppres- 
sion, the conviction of the hopelessness of reconciliation, the flattering desire 
of independence, and the confident assurance of foreign support — seemed to 
show conclusively that the decisive hour was come. 



388 HESITATION TO DECLARE INDEPENDENCE. [1776. 

For a long time past circumstances Kad irresistibly tended to tlils result. 
As the royal authority was virtually abrogated in all tlie colonies, it became 
absolutely necessary to substitute some other system of government, and on 
this point the citizens of New Hampshire apjilied to congress for their 
advice. This furnished that body with a welcome opportunity of suggest- 
ing, on the motion of John Adams, to the different assemblies and conven- 
tions, to rstablish su.ch form of governments as seemed suitable to their altered 
circumstances, all authority exercised under the crown of Great Britain being 
abrogated as unlawful, and the powers of government vested under authority 
from the j)eople. As this was virtually, though not nominally, a declaration of 
independence, some of the colonies yet demurred at carrying it out. The con- 
vention of Virginia had, however, already appointed a committee to di-aw up 
a Frame of Government ; while their delegates in congress were instructed to 
jDropose a formal Declaration of Independence, — an example shortly afterwards 
imitated by the representatives of INIassachusetts and the New England 
States. Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Maryland, in which the royalists were 
very numerous, instructed their delegates to oppose it. And such, after all, 
was the reluctance in the minds of many to take a step so irrevocable, for 
once taken, the honour and dignity of the country required that it should be 
maiiltained at all events, such the lingering scruples of loyalty and the fear of 
closing all avenue to an accommodation, such, in short, the apprehension of 
a new and untried state of things, of the predominance of democratic influence, 
• — that not without a considerable struggle was this momentous measure 
finally carried. 

It was Richard Henry Lee, Avho, on the seventh of June, in pursuance of 
the instructions of his constituency, first brought forward the motion, " that 
the United Colonies are, and ought to be, fi'ee and independent States, and 
that their political connexion with Great Britain is, and ought to be, dis- 
solved." Next day the motion was debated with closed doors, by the whole 
house, being earnestly seconded by Wythe, and also by John Adams, who, after 
his many hesitations, now decisively made up his mind. Dickinson, Livingston, 
and Rutledge, with many other members, opiiosed it, either in the anxious 
hope of a settlement, or because they thought the time was not come to ven- 
ture upon so bold a step. So strong indeed was the opposition, that the motion 
j^assed but by a majority of seven States to six. 

The final consideration of the subject was now, for a short time, postponed, 
in order to give time for public opinion to pronounce itself more decidedly. 
The Pennsylvania assembly was obliged to give way to the popular feeling, 
and instruct its delegates to support the measure. New Jersey and Mary- 
land also sent in their adhesion. A committee of five, consisting of Thomas 
Jefferson, a young Virginia lawyer of remarkable abilities, now rapidly 
rising into notice, together with John Adams, Franklin, Livingston, and 
Sherman, was appointed to draw up the " Declaration," itself the produc- 
tion of Jefferson, but with considerable modification in committee. Some 
of the most violent paragraj)hs attacking the king and ministry were ju- 



1776.] THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 389 

dicioiisly omitted ; and it must he confessed tliat, on tliis head, the document 
still remains tolerably severe. Another circumstance, noted by Hildreth, is 
especially worthy of remark. The profession, that " all men are alike free 
and independent " — the basis of the new political creed — was then, at least, 
ingenuously felt to be utterly inconsistent with the existence of slavery among 
those Avho adopted it. An emphatic denunciation of that system, and a charge 
against the king for having prostituted his negative for the defeat of all legis- 
lative attempt to prohibit or restrain " that execrable traffic," was therefore 
originally included in the resolutions, but afterwards struck out in compliance 
with the interests of some of the southern States. With these omissions, this 
celebrated paper, which we here give in full, was adopted by a large ma- 
jority. 

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

A Declaration by the Representatives of the United States of America in 
Congress assembled. 

" "VVlien, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people 
to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and 
to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station 
to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect 
to the opinions of mankind requii'es that they should declare the causes which 
impel them to the separation. 

" We hold these truths to be self-evident : that all men are created equal ; 
that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights ; that 
among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That, to secure 
these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers 
from the consent of the governed ; that whenever any form of government 
becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to 
abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such 
principles, and organizing its powers- in such form, as to them shall seem most 
likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, 
that governments long established should not be changed for light and tran- 
sient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are 
more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves, 
by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long 
train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces 
a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their 
duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future 
security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies, and such is 
now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of go- 
vernment. The history of the present king of Great Britain is a history of 
repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establish-, 
ment of an absolute tyranny over these States. To prove this, let facts be 
submitted to a candid world. 



390 THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. [177(3. 

" He lias refused h.is assent to laws the most wholesome and necessary for 
the public good. 

" He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing 
importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be 
obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to 
them. 

" He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts 
of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in 
the legislature ; a right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only. 

*' He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, 
and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of 
fatiguing them into compliance with his measiu'es. 

*' He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing, with 
manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people. 

'^ He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to cause others to 
be elected ; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have 
returned to the people at large for their exercise ; the State remaining, in the 
mean time, exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without and convul- 
sions within. 

" He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States ; for that 
purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners, refusing to pass 
others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new 
appropriations of lands. 

" He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing his assent to 
laws for estabhshing judiciary powers. 

'' He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their 
offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries, 

" He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of 
officers to harass our people, and to eat out their substance. 

" He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the 
consent of our legislatures. 

'* He has affected to render the military independent of, and superior to, 
the civil power. 

" He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to 
our constitutions, and unacknowledged by our laws ; giving his assent to their 
acts of pretended legislation : — 

" For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us : 

" For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment for any murders 
which they should commit on the inhabitants of these States : 

" For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world : 

" For imposing taxes on us without our consent : 

" For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury : 

*' For transporting us beyond seas, to be tried for pretended offences : 

'■ For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighbouring pro- 
vince, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its bound- 



1776.] THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 391 

aries, so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing 
tlie same absolute rule into these colonies : 

" For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and 
altering, fundamentally, the forms of our governments : 

" For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested 
with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. 

" He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection, 
and waging war against us, 

" He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our to^vviis, and 
destroyed the lives of our people. 

" He is, at this time, transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries, to 
complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with 
circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbar- 
ous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation. 

" He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high seas, to 
bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends 
and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. 

" He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured 
to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, 
whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, 
sexes, and conditions. 

" In every state of these oppressions, we have petitioned for redress in the 
most humble terms : our repeated petitions have been answered only by re- 
peated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which 
may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people. 

** Nor have we been wantinsr in attentions to our British brethren. We 
have warned them, from time to time, of attempts by their legislature to extend 
an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the cir- 
cumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to 
their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties 
of our common kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably 
interrupt our connexions and correspondence. They too have been deaf to 
the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in 
the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the 
rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends. 

"We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America in 
general Congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world 
for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and by authority of the 
good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these United 
Colonies are, and of right ought to be. Free and Independent States ; 
that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all 
political connexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought 
to be, totally dissolved ; and that, as free and independent states, they have 
power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances^ establish commerce, 
and do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. 



392 RECEPTION OF THE DECLARATION. [1776. 

And for the support of tliis declaration, with a firm reliance on the protectioa 
of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our for- 
tunes, and our sacred honour." 

Thus, not by any deep-laid design of their own, but by the working of that 
providential law which overrules the errors and passions of men for the ac- 
complishment of its secret designs, had the Americans been led on to an issue, 
which, though absolutely necessary for the future development of their coun- 
try, and to which the under-current of public opinion had long irresistibly 
tended, they would but a short period before have shrunk from contem- 
plating. We must admire the heroism with which Congress prepared to com- 
mence a struggle that promised to be long and arduous, no less than the skill 
with which they grappled the difficulties that beset them. It was not only 
the native energy of the men, drawn forth into sublime relief by their trying 
and perilous circumstances, but also the habit of self-government, to which they 
had so long been accustomed, that could enable them, with all their differ- 
ences of opinion, to pull together, and to organize the new institutions required 
by their altered position. Without loss of time, they set their hand to the 
work. A committee was appointed to draw up the terms of confederation, and 
to define the powers of Congress ; which proved to be a work of time and dif- 
ficulty, for the sejoarate States were jealous of each other's pre]3onderance, and 
all were unwilling to surrender to Congress more power than was absolutely 
indispensable. A board of war was established, of which John Adams was 
appointed chairman. A secret committee for foreign correspondence had 
been for some time in operation. Issues of paper money were made to meet 
the growing demands. Nor was Congress alone active, the different States 
had to remodel their respective governments, and to make the necessary 
preparations of men and money, respectively required at their hands. They 
had to watch over and keep in check the intrigues of their domestic enemies. 
An immense and complicated machinery had to be created and kept in 
motion, and the centre of that machinery was Washington. 

The news of the "Declaration of Independence " was received throughout 
the Union of the Thirteen United States with the greatest enthusiasm 
by far the greatest body of the people. " The day is past," writes Adams to 
his wife — " the 4th day of July will be a memorable epocha in the history of 
America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding generations 
as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the day 
of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be 
solemnized with pomp, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illu- 
minations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward 
for ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I 
am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure that it will cost us to main- 
tain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet, tln-ough 
all this gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory — I can see that the end is 
more than worth all the means, and that our posterity will triumph. 



BOOK III. 



FROM THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE TO THE CLOSE OF THE 

REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 



177G. CONSPIRA CY OF THE ROYALISTS IN NEW YORK. 395 



CHAPTER I. 



CAMPAIGN OF 1T76. — BATTLE OF GOWANUS. — RETREAT OF WASHINGTON THROUGH NEW JERSET.— 
ENGAGEMENT ON LAKE TICONDEROGA. — SUCCESS AT TRENTON. — BATTLE OF PRINCETON, ETC. 



After the evacuation of Boston, Lord HoAve had retired to Halifax, with the 
view, as was justly aj^prehended by Washington, of directing his next attack 
against New York. That city had always been the chief seat of Tory influ- 
ence, and though ex-governor Tryon had been obliged to fly, he still remained 
on board a vessel at Sandy Hook, and Avas in constant communication with 
the royalists. It was suspected, and not without reason, that the most danger- 
ous plots were being hatched in secret, wliile the provisional congress seemed 
to remain either itnconscious or paralysed. 

No sooner had Washington arrived at New York to assume the command 
of the forces, than his attention was directed to this alarming state of things ; 
and tlirough his earnest expostulation, a secret committee was appointed with 
power to apprehend suspected persons. This providential foresight led to the 
discovery of an insidious scheme, which, had it succeeded, might have given 
a totally different issue to the impending struggle. Tryon's agents were 
found to be actively engaged in corrupting the American soldiers with British 
gold, the mercenary infection had even seized upon Washington s OAvn guard, 
and a j)lan had been formed for seizing and carrying him on board an English 
ship. One of the soldiers was found guilty by a court-martial, and executed ; 
some of the guilty suspected were thrown into prison, among whom was the 
mayor himself. The head of the confederacy was broken ; but there yet re- 
mained enough of the Tory leaven to occasion disquietude and justify a 
vigilant severity. 

Meanwhile every thing had been done, consistent with the limited means 
at Washington's command, to protect New York against Howe's anticipated 
attack. Putnam had sunk obstructions in the North and East rivers ; batteries 
had been established in the islands and passages; and two forts had been 
hastily erected, to command the comparatively narrow passage of the Hudson, 
i few miles above the city, and before it expands into the broad lake-like basin 
jf the Tappan sea. These were Fort Washington, at the northern end of 
New York island, and Fort Lee, on the opposite shore of New Jersey. The 
.roops already at New York, Congress had determined to reinforce by thir- 
teen thousand eight hundred militia from New England, New York, and 
New Jersey ; while ten thousand more from Pennsylvania, DelaAvare, and 
Maryland were to form " a flying camp," to cover and protect the neigh- 
bouring State of New Jersey. With these imperfect defences, and this body 

3 E 2 



396 PROPOSALS FOR A RECONCILIATION. [1776. 

of ill-organized, and, as lie must liave known tliem to be, inefficient levies, 
Washington anxiously, but firmly, awaited the approach of his more power- 
ful adversary. 

At length, on the 28th of June, the British ships appeared off New York, 
and a few days after General Howe landed on Staten Island, where he was 
warmly welcomed by the Tories, and received the promise of co-operation 
from the loyalists of Long Island and New Jersey. A few days after his 
arrival, and whilst an attack upon New York might be daily expected, Wash- 
ington received the news of the passing of the Declaration of Independence, 
which raised the spirits of the army to the highest pitch. The regiments were 
paraded and the Declaration read, amidst the most enthusiastic plaudits. 
The picture of the king, which had hitherto stood like a tutelary genius in the 
Town Hall, was torn down and destroyed, the royal effigy converted into 
revolutionary bullets. 

The expected attack was however for some time deferred. The English 
ministry had despatched Admiral Lord Howe from England, with large rein- 
forcements, such as, together with the loyalist rising, upon which they seem 
ever to have counted, would prove, they imagined, amply sufficient to suppress 
the insurrection. He now arrived to his brother's assistance, furnished also 
with proposals for an accommodation, which were to be tried before resorting 
to further hostilities. A circular letter to the royal governors, stating the 
terms proposed for a reconciliation, together with a general offer of pardon, 
were sent on shore under a flag of truce, and were forwarded by Washington 
to Congress. It is possible that had Howe's arrival been somewhat earlier, 
these proposals might have in some degree protracted the hesitations in 
that body, and have sown division in the jDublic mind ; but could have hardly 
produced any decided effect, inasmuch as they left the matters in dispute main- 
ly untouched, and offered no security but the royal clemency. As it was, the 
Kubicon had been passed — the Declaration of Independence put forth, and 
the only effect of the proclamation was to unite the people more closely toge- 
ther. Indeed, so far from dreading its effects. Congress caused it to be pub- 
lished in the newspapers, in order " that the few v^hom hopes of moderation 
and justice had still kept in suspense, might now be convinced" that the 
valour alone of their country is to save its liberties. 

Although provided with an army and fleet sufficient, as it might well seem, 
to put down resistance by force, both General Howe and his brother were 
sincerely anxious to eflect if possible a peaceable solution of the quarrel. The 
Admiral, as generous as he was brave, had undertaken the command of the 
fleet Avith marked reluctance. In his place in parliament he had warmly and 
feelingly descanted upon the horrors of civil war, and declared that " he knew 
no struggle so painful as that between a soldier's duties as an officer and man. 
If left to his own choice, he should decline serving ; but if commanded, it be- 
came his duty, and he should not refuse to obey." Having, to their great 
regret, failed in their appeal to the American public, the Howes next endea- 
voured to open a personal communication with Washington. For tiiis pur- 



1776. ] FAIL URE OF NEGOTIA TI0X8 WITH WASHINGTON, 397 

pose a boat was sent witli a letter addressed " George Washington, Esq.," under 
whicli superscription it was however returned. They next despatched Colonel 
Paterson, adjutant-general of the British army, who was introduced into the 
presence of the American commander, and presented another letter similarly 
addressed. But this also ^^''ashington declined to receive, upon the ground, 
that as his public capacity was well known, the letter ought to be suitably di- 
rected, or that it would aj^pear to be a merely private communication. A 
conference on the subject of the disputes then took place between the Colonel 
and Washington, but though conducted with perfect courtesy on both sides, it 
terminated in nothing satisfactory. " I find," said Washington, " you are only 
empowered to grant pardons : we have committed no oifence, we need no 
pardon." Soon after, Colonel Palfrey, paymaster-general of the American 
army, repaired on board Lord Howe's ship to negotiate a change of prisoners. 
His lordship took this occasion to lament that the fear of displeasing the king 
had prevented his public recognition of the rank of General Washington, for 
whom he professed the highest respect. He remarked, with evident emotion, 
that " Congress had greatly hurt his feelings by reminding him, in one of 
their publications, of the esteem and respect they had for the memory of his 
brother, drawing, by manifest inference, a contrast between the sin-vivors and 
deceased ; that no man could feel more sensibly the respect shown to their 
family than himself and the General, that they should always esteem America 
for it, and particularly Massachusetts Bay ; and that he hoped America 
would one day be convinced that, in their affection for America, he and his 
brother were also Howes. With these courteous overtures terminated for the 
present all prospect of a reconciliation. 

Two months had elapsed since the English general landed on Staten Island, 
and he had now been joined by all his reinforcements, swelling his army to 
lr\venty-four thousand men, well trained, well provided, and led by able and 
experienced officers. INIeanwhile Washington's forces had increased, by the 
arrival of militia, to about the same number, but vastly different in organiza- 
tion and equipment. A heterogeneous medley, hurriedly gathered together 
from the different States, they brought along with them their sectional jealousies 
and disgusts — the wealthy gentlemen of the middle and southern States re- 
volting at associating, on a footing of equality, with the officers of the northern 
and eastern militia, Avho, though inferior to none in genuine chivalry, were 
often of a low rank in society, and in manner and bearing hardly raised above 
the level of their fellow comrades from the plough. Overbearing contempt on 
one hand, and wounded pride on the other, bred quarrels and disorders which 
threatened the most serious results, and called for vigorous but kindly remon- 
strance on the part of Washiiigton. We are reminded here, as at every step, 
of the immense moral influence which he had already acquired over the 
minds of his countrymen — an influence alone able to conciliate and to con- 
trol the ever-recurring discords and discouragements which beset the in- 
fancy of the republic. '' The General most earnestly entreats the officers and 
soldiers to consider, that they can no way assist our enemies more effectually 



398 POSITION OF AMERICAN TROOPS IN BROOKLYN. [1776. 

than by making divisions among themselves, that the honour and success of our 
army and the safety of our bleeding country depend upon harmony and good 
agreement with each other, that the provinces are all united to oppose the 
common enemy, and all distinctions sunk in the name of an American. To 
make this name honourable, and to preserve the liberty of our country, ought 
to be our only emulation, and he will be the best soldier and the best patriot 
who contributes most to this glorious work, whatever his station, and from 
whatever part of the continent he may come." This spirited appeal had for 
the present the effect of putting a stop to dissensions, which could only be 
effectually repressed by a more efficient organization of the army. 

In the expectation that Howe would direct his attack by way of Long 
Island, a body of nine thousand men had been encamped at Brooklyn, pro- 
tected by a line of works executed under the superintendence of General 
Greene, extending from Wallabout Bay on the East river to Gowan's cove on 
New York Bay. In advance was a range of wooded heights, crossed directly 
by two roads, while a third turned their eastern extremity near the shore of 
the bay, and a fourth, by falling into the Jamaica road, the western. The 
central passes, leading over the hills, were guarded and fortified, and orders 
had been given carefully to watch over them all. But General Greene, to 
whom the command was intrusted, and who perfectly understood the ground, 
happened to fall ill, and the command devolved on Putnam, who was not so 
well acquainted with it, and by some neglect, or want of foresight, the Jamaica 
road was left without adequate protection, neither was a proper system of 
comnumication kept up betweeia the different posts. 

Such was the position of the Americans when the British troops landed on 
Long Island, extending their line along the southern side of the heights 
which intervened between them and the American camp. Opposite the 
middle of the heights was De Heister Avith the centre composed of Hessians, 
the left wing under General Grant prepared to attack by the lower road, 
while General Clinton, supported by Earl Percy and General Cornwallis, ad- 
vanced at the head of the right wing towards the unprotected Jamaica road, 
with the purpose of turning the American left, placing them between two 
fires, and cutting off their retreat to the camp. 

This combination, as sagaciously planned as it was vigorously executed, 
proved, notwithstanding the most resolute bravery on the part of the Ameri- 
cans at particular points, entirely successful. 

About nine o'clock at night Clinton's division advanced steadily and 
swiftly towards the Jamaica road, and after capturing a patrol, a little before 
day-break had attained this spot, the key of the position, without obstacle. 
Grant meanwhile advanced at midnight along the lower road, and thus came 
into contact with the American troops under Lord Sterling, while at day- 
break De Heister assaulted the American centre posted upon the crest of the 
hills. One of the ships meanwhile kepf thundering on the American right. 
The object of the English was to draw the attention of their enemy from what 
was passing on their left, but no sooner were they aware that Clinton stood 



1770.] COMPLETE DEFEAT OF THE AMERICANS. 399 

prepared to act on the offensive, tlian they advanced to the attack with 
vigour, and after a strenuous resistance, succeeded in forcing the passages, 
and gradually driving in their opponents. 

Meanwhile Clinton, unopposed on the Jamaica road, marched rapidly 
through Bedford, and threw himself upon the left flank of the Americans, 
who finding themselves in a way to be cut off", endeavoured to retreat to the 
camp, but were intercepted and driven back upon the Hessians, or forced to fly 
into the woods. Cornwallis at the same time pushed round to cut ofl" Lord 
Sterling, who was taken prisoner, his corps with great difliculty effecting 
their retreat. Sullivan, hemmed in as he was by De Heister on one side and 
Clinton on the other, was obliged to surrender. The defeat of the Americans 
was complete at all points, and upwards of a thousand prisoners remained in 
the hands of the enemy. Such as escaped fell back within the lines at 
Brooklyn, closely pursued by the victorious English. 

Inexperienced as were the Americans in the science of war, having 
so extensive and broken a line to defend, without cavalry, and attacked 
by a vastly superior and highly disciplined force, the issue of the combat 
might have been foreseen, and Washington, it is evident, almost an- 
ticipated it. Speaking of his soldiers before the struggle, he observed, 
" The superiority of the enemy and the expected attack does not seem to have 
depressed their spirits. These considerations lead me to think that, though the 
appeal may not terminate as happily as I could wish, yet that the enemy will 
not succeed in their views without considerable loss. Any advantage they 
may gain I trust will cost them dear." He was not, however, prepared for so 
com^jlete a discomfiture as this ; and his anguish, at witnessing it, is said to 
have been extreme. 

During the action he had crossed over to the camp at Brooklyn, now 
crowded with disheartened fugitives, and menaced with an immediate attack 
by the English, flushed with victory and eager to be led on to the assault. The 
moment was fearfully critical. Had the counsels of the English officers been 
as vigorous as the temper of their troops was excited, the lines would have 
been at once stormed and probably carried. But whether General Howe 
dreaded the result of thus attacking a desperate foe, or supposed that with 
the co-operation of the ships the enemy could not escape him, he preferred to 
make regular approaches, and began immediately to open trenches. The rain 
poured incessantly for two days, and the Americans were exposed to it un- 
sheltered. Had the English ships advanced up the East river, and stationed 
themselves between Brooklyn and New York, nothing could have saved the 
camp ; but a strong north-east wind had hitherto prevented them from 
doing so. Every moment was precious, when a sudden shift of wind 
would cut off* the possibility of flight. It was known besides, that Clinton 
was threatening to send part of his army across the sound, thus menacing 
New York. Washington called a council of war, at which it was resolved 
to retreat instantly. The hour of eight in the evening of the twenty-ninth 
of August was fixed upon for the embarkation. Every thing had been 



400 THE AMERICAN ARMY LEAVES BROOKLYN. [1776. 

prepared, and the troops were ready to marcli down, but the force of the 
wind and ebb tide delayed them for some hours, and seemed as if it would 
entirely frustrate the enterprise. The enemy, toiling hard at the approaches, 
were now so near, that the blows of their pickaxes and instruments could be 
distinctly heard, while the noise of these operations deadened all sound of the 
American movements, which were carried on in the deepest silence. Abo\it 
two in the morning, a thick fog settling over Long Island prevented all sight 
of what was going on, and the wind shifting round to the south-west, the 
soldiers entered the boats, and were rapidly transferred to the opposite shore. 
So complete were the arrangements, that almost all the artillery, with the 
provisions, horses, waggons, and ammunition safely crossed over to New 
York. Washington, who, from the commencement of the action till he had 
seen the troops placed out of danger, had never closed his eyes, and been 
rarely out of the saddle, was himself the last to quit the shore. 

Scarcely had the fog cleared off, when the British saw with amazement the 
last American boat, which had returned to fetch off some munitions, fast 
nearing the opposite bank of the East river. Washington had saved his 
army. Several thousand men were still assembled in New York Island, but 
their leader was but too sensible how little reliance could be placed upon them. 
A highly disciplined force may succeed in bearing up against even a series of 
reverses, but to the undisciplined a single one is often enough. The suc- 
cesses of Lexington and Bunker Hill had so excited the spirits of the 
American soldiers, that they undervalued the importance of military tactics, 
and believed that in native valour and determined covirage they would prove 
an overmatch for the mercenary, if better trained, soldiers of the king. The 
recent defeat had opened their eyes to this mistake, and they now, by a na- 
tural revulsion, fell into the opposite error. In spite of all his influence, 
Washington beheld his army falling rapidly away. He had long felt that, 
with the present system of limited enlistments, and necessarily imperfect dis- 
cipline, it would be impossible to maintain the conflict ; and he resolved to 
turn his present distresses to account, by making a vigorous appeal to Con- 
gress for the establishment of a standing army. 

" Our situation (thus he wrote to Congress) is truly distressing. The check 
our detachment sustained on the 2Tth ultimo, has dispirited too great a pro- 
portion of our troops, and filled their minds with apprehension and despair. 
The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly 
opposition in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and impa- 
tient to return. Great numbers of them have gone off; in some instances, 
almost by whole regiments, by half ones, and by companies at a time. This 
circumstance of itself, independent of others, when fronted by a well-ap- 
pointed enemy, superior in number to our whole collected force, would be 
sufficiently disagreeable ; but, when their example has infected another part 
of the army, when their want of discipline, and refusal of almost every kind 
of restraint and government, have produced a like conduct but too common 
to the v>^hole, and an entire disregard of that order and subordination neces- 



1770.] THE HOWES TRY TO EFFECT A PACIFICATION. 401 

sary to tlie well-doing of an army, and wliicli had been inculcated before, as 
veil as the nature of our military establishment would admit of, — our condi- 
tion becomes still more alarming ; and, with the deepest concern, I am obliged 
to confess my want of confidence in the generality of the troops. 

" All these circumstances fully confirm the opinion I ever entertained, and 
which I more than once in my letters took the liberty of mentioning to Con- 
gress, that no dependence could be put in a militia, or other troops, than those 
enlisted and embodied for a longer period than our regulations heretofore 
have prescribed. I am persuaded, and as fully convinced as I am of any one 
fact that has happened, that our liberties must of necessity be greatly hazarded, 
if not entirely lost, if their defence is left to any but a permanent standing 
army ; I mean, one to exist during the war. Nor would the expense, inci- 
dent to the support of such a body of troops as would be competent to almost 
every exigency, far exceed that, which is daily incurred by calling in succour 
and new enlistments, Avhich, when efifected, are not attended with any good 
consequences. Men who have been free and subject to no control, cannot 
be reduced to order in an instant ; and the privileges and exemptions, which 
they claim and will have, influence the conduct of others ; and the aid de- 
rived from them is nearly counterbalanced by the disorder, irregularity, and 
confusion they occasion." 

Whilst Washington, on one hand, was urging the adoption of more vigor- 
ous measures ; the Howes, on the other, taking advantage of the discourage- 
ment in the American army, which they naturally concluded avouIcI induce 
Congress to lower their tone, despatched then a prisoner. General Sullivan, 
to Philadelphia, with further advances towards a pacification. Unable of- 
ficially to recognise or treat with Congress, the British commanders expressed 
their desire of confen'ing with some members of that body, as private gentle- 
men, to efifect if possible some amicable settlement of the dispute. The 
Congress replied, that as representatives of the American confederation, they 
were unable consistently to send any of their members in their private 
capacity, but would depute a committee to wait upon the Howes, upon whom 
they might look in whatever light they pleased. Meanwhile, the prospects 
of accommodation, thus opened to Congress, occasioned considerable debate, 
which terminated in the resolution, the die being now cast, to maintain 
their independence at all hazards, and in spite of all reverses. With this 
view, Franklin, John Adams, and John Rutledge were deputed to confer 
with the Howes, at Staten Island. Nothing could be more friendly than the 
disposition of the Howes ; but, as before, they were unfurnished with any 
proposals beyond a promise of pardon, and vague promises of the royal bene- 
volence, and of a revigion of the subjects in dispute. But even a distinct promise 
of the reversal of all the obnoxious acts of parliament would not now have 
proved enough. The terms that would once have been gladly welcomed, it 
was now too late to listen to. The honour of the American nation was pledged 
to the maintenance, at all risks, of a resolution so solemnly entered into in 
the face of the world. The conference therefore terminated as might have 

3 p 



402 WASHIXGTON' 8 HEAD-QUARTERS AT MORRISANIA. [1776. 

been expected. The deputies declared, "That the associated colonies could 
not accede to any peace or alliance, but as free and independent States. As 
such, they were ready to enter into a treaty of pacification with Great Britai n, 
but not otherwise." Regretting that they were unable to negotiate upDU 
these terms, the Howes broke off the conference. Appealing from the stub- 
bornness of Congress to the people at large, they next issued a proclamation, 
promising them a revisal of the obnoxious Acts, and urging them to return to 
tb'eir allegiance. 

Nothing therefore now remained to ^Yashington, but to resume hostilities, 
which had commenced so inauspiciously for the Aanerican cause. Perhaps 
no one but himself would have had the moral firmness steadily to look his dis- 
couragements in the face, and to persevere in spite of them ; and it is certain 
that no one else could have exercised that moral influence, so far beyond mere 
generalship, which could alone hold together the disjointed elements of the 
army. The character of the struggle, he had the sagacity to see, must be 
tedious, desultory, and painful, redeemed by few of those brilliant exploits 
requisite to dazzle the public mind and sustain the enthusiasm of his coun- 
try. With so ill-compacted a force, it must be long ere he could hope to 
face the enemy in a pitched battle with any chance of success ; all he could 
expect was to impede his march, cut off his supplies, and harass his progress ; 
forced to retreat from prudential motives, when his natural temj^er would 
have led him to solicit the combat ; blamed for inevitable defeats, and looked 
to for impossible victories. 

By his recent triumph Howe had acquired the possession of Long Island, 
and was preparing to pass over the East river and menace New York ; but 
where the blow would fall, what were the numbers, plans, and dispositions of 
the English army, Washington knew not with any certainty. To prevent sur- 
prise, he had removed the main body of his army to the heights of Harlem north 
of the city, overlooking the Harlem river, sending across a portion of the stores 
and baggage, and establishing his head- quarters at Morris'inia, whence he 
could better watch the movements of the English on the opposite side of the 
strait. A considerable force still remained in the city under the command of 
Putnam, ready either to act in its defence or retreat, as the case might require. 

To obtain a knowledge of the enemy's plans was now of the highest im- 
portance, and Washington made known his wish to Colonel Know] ton, one 
of the bravest and most resolute of his officers, who commanded a regiment of 
light infantry, which formed the van of the American army. Knowlton 
called together his subordinates, and stated' to them the wish of the 
general. The appeal was responded to by Nathan Hale, a native of Con- 
necticut, educated at Yale College, an excellent scholar, winning in his man- 
ners, possessing a fine taste, and animated above all with the most ardent 
enthusiasm in his country's cause. After the battle of Lexington, he had 
obtained a commission in the army, and had already given excellent promise 
as an officer. Contrary to the remonstrances and forebodings of his friends, 
lie determined to assume the perilous mission. 



1776.] NATHAX HALE EXECUTED AS A SPY. 403 

Having disguised Kimself, lie crossed over to Long Island, passed tlirough. 
tlie camp of the enemy, obtained the necessary information, and had even step- 
ped into the boat in order to return, when he was apprehended on suspicion, 
and carried before Sir William Howe. Immediately placed upon his trial as 
a spy, he was convicted upon his own confession, and, according to military 
law, ordered to be hanged on the following morning. 

Far from any sympathy being exhibited towards him, his treatment during 
his last hours was harsh and cruel in the extreme. The provost marshal, 
whose office it was to carry the sentence into effect, was himself a refugee, 
and animated by the bitterest hatred. The attendance of a clergyman and 
even the use of a Bible were denied the unhappy captive, and his last 
aifectionate letters to his mother and sister were destroyed. For this last 
piece of cruelty the provost marshal assigned a reason, which ought rather 
to have excited admiration than called forth malevolence towards its ob- 
lect ; '' He would not have," he said, " the rebels to know, that they had 
a man in their army Avho could die with so much firmness." Unknown 
and unfriended, young Hale met his ignominious fate with unflinching cour- 
age, regretting only with his latest breath that he had but one life to lay 
down in the cause of his country. 

Not long after this unhappy episode, HoAve's designs became apparent 
enough, and they were crowned with entire success. He declined bombarding 
the city, which contained a great number of adherents, and would be desir 
able as quarters for his army. Instead of this, sending several ships up 
the North and East rivers, the fire from which swept entirely across the island, 
he began, under cover of it, to land his troops at Kip's Bay, about mid- 
way between New York and Harlem. Works had been thrown up on the 
spot, sufficient at least to maintain a resistance till further succour could 
arrive ; but no sooner did the English set foot on shore, than the troops 
posted in them were seized with a panic, broke, and fled, communicating 
their terror to two New England brigades, who on the first alarm of a landing 
had been despatched to their support. It was at this moment that Washing- 
ton, hurrying to the scene of action, fell in with the entire party retreating 
in disorder Avithout firing a single shot. The sight was too much for his ex- 
cited feelings, and for once his equanimity gave way before a sense of the 
almost hopelessness of his task. He galloped to and fro among the fugitives, 
entreating them to face the enemy, he struck them with the flat of his sword, 
snapped his pistols at them, and utterly unable to stay the rout, dashed his 
hat on the ground, exclaiming, " Are these the men with whom I am to de- 
fend America ' " Abandoned by all, and rooted to the spot, he seemed not 
merely incapable of saving himself by flight, but even as though he invoked 
destruction ; and had it not been for his officers, who seized his bridle and 
forcibly dragged him off the field, he would, in all probability, have been 
shot or taken prisoner. 

As the fugitive troops retired, they encountered a reinforcement hastening 
to their support, and, ashamed of their former panic, faced about and desired 

3 F 2 



404 LORD HOWE ENTERS NEW YORK CITY, [1776. 

to be led against tlie enemy. But unable as he was to place any firm reliance 
upon them, Washmgton judged it more prudent to fall back ujjon Harlem 
heights. 

By this time the British officers had landed all their forces, and had they 
pushed vigorously forward would, by placing themselves across the island 
midway between Washington at Harlem and Putnam in New York, have 
effectually cut off the latter, and compelled him to surrender. Orders 
had been despatched to him instantly to evacuate the city, and in the midst 
of hurry and confusion he took the lower road by Greenwich, leaving behind 
him his heavy artillery and a large quantity of stores and provisions. The 
delay of the British, generally attributed to the general's stopping for refresh- 
ment, alone prevented his being cut off with his entire division, and as it was, 
three hundred of his men fell into the hands of the enemy. 

No sooner had he departed than a detachment of the royal troops entered 
the city, where they were warmly received by the Tories. The bitterest feel- 
ing existed between the two hostile parties, and it Was fearfully exemplified 
by means of an accident that occurred a few nights after the occupation 
This was a fire, which broke out in the dead of night, and owing to the drought 
of the season and a strong south wind, increased with alarming rapidity. Up- 
wards of a thousand buildings were consumed, and but for the exertions of 
the soldiers and sailors the whole city would probably have been destroyed. 
In the excited state of party feeling, it was said that the " Sons of Liberty " 
were the incendiaries, with a view to drive out the army, and several sus- 
pv"cted persons were hurled into the blazing buildings by the soldiers. General 
Howe, in the mean while, had taken up a position with the main body of 
his troops in front of Washington's intrenchments at Harlem, extending 
across the island from the East to the North river, supported at each extre- 
mity by his ships. AVithin their intrenchments the " morale " of the Ame- 
rican troops revived, they reflected with shame on the events of the day, and 
deterinined to retrieve their character on the first opportunity. Volunteers 
came forward next morning, and under the command of Colonel Knowlton 
went out to reconnoitre the enemy. A party of the British came forward to 
meet them, and a spirited skii-mish ensued, in which the very same men 
who the day before had fled so disgracefully, behaved with such spirit as 
decidedly to have the best of the encounter, though at the loss of their gal- 
lant commander, who had led them into action. This incident revived the 
drooping confidence of the troops, and was no less encouraging to Washing- 
ton himself, after his recent and bitter mortification. He occupied himself 
diligently with strengthening his lines, which Howe considered too formida- 
ble to be attacked with prudence, until he had obtained reinforcements. 

While the two armies thus remained inactive in face of each other, Wash- 
ington was earnestly engaged in correspondence with Congress. The state of 
his army, though somewhat raised from despondency by the recent success, 
was deplorable. Hospitals Avere wanting to receive the numerous sick, who 
were exposed almost unsheltered to the inclemency of the weather. Deser- 



177G.] ARRANGEMENTS FOR A STANDING ARMY, 405 

tions were constantly taking place, and the very next reverse miglit occasion 
the entire dissolution of the army. The feelings of Washington were thus 
expressed to Congress. " There is no situation upon earth less enviable, or 
more distressing, than that person's who is at the head of troops regardless 
of order and discipline, and unprovided with almost every necessary. In a 
word, the difficulties, which have for ever surrounded me since I have been 
in the service, and kept my mind constantly upon the stretch ; the wounds, 
which my feelings as an officer have received by a thousand things, that have 
happened contrary to my expectations and wishes ; the effisct of my own con- 
duet, and present appearance of things, so little pleasing to myself, as to 
render it a matter of no surprise to me if I should stand capitally censured 
by Congress ; added to a consciousness of my inability to govern an army 
composed of such discordant parts, and under such a variety of intricate and 
perplexing circumstances ; — induce not only a belief, but a thorough convic- 
tion in my mind, that it will be impossible, unless there be a thorough change 
in our military system, for me to conduct matters in such a manner as to give 
satisfaction to the public, which is all the recompence I aim at or ever 
wished for." 

Reluctant as Congress had been to establish a standing army, they had now 
drawn the sword and cast away the scabbard, and the recent losses seconded 
so powerfully the expostulations of Washington, that a scheme was drawn up 
in harmony with his suggestions, with which a committee of delegates re- 
paired to the camp at Harlem, in order to confer wdth him on the subject. 
The new army was to consist of eighty-eight battalions, to be provided for by 
the respective States in due proportion, and the soldiers, who received a 
bounty for enlistment, were required to serve for the whole war, — the system 
of limited enlistments having been found the great obstacle to discipline. 
Great difficulties however were still to be surmounted. The selection of 
officers for their respective quotas was at first to be left to the States them- 
selves, instead of confided to the commander-in-chief; but a midway course 
was afterwards agreed upon, by which the States were to send commissioners 
to arrange the appointments wdth him. 

While engaged in deep and anxious conference with the delegates of Con- 
gress, Washington had also to keep a watchful eye on the movements of 
his skilful adversary. The two armies had now maintained the same posi- 
tion for three weeks, when Howe, finding the lines at Harlem too strong 
to be attacked with any chance of success, determined iipon a change of 
tactics. He first sent some ships of war up the Hudson, which, in spite of 
the American batteries, succeeded in forcing a passage, thus intercepting the 
communication, and preventing supplies from reaching Washington by the 
river. Leaving behind him a force to cover New York, he transferred the 
rest of his army to Pell's Point on Long Island Sound, and took up a position 
on the neighbouring heights of New Rochelle. Hence, having received a 
strong reinforcement of Hessians and Waldeckers under General Knyphau- 
sen, he threatened a movement in the rear of Washington, so as to cut him 



406 HOWE MARCHES AOAIXST FORT WASHINGTON. [1776. 

off from all communication eitlier by land or water, or compel him to a general 
action. A council of war was now called, when, to traverse this design, it was 
resolved to evacuate the island and advance into the interior. The question 
arose, whether a garrison should be left behind in Fort Washington, a mea- 
sure which seemed of little use, inasmuch as the British had obtained the 
command of the river. "Washington and Lee were opposed to this plan, but 
it was strenuously urged by Greene, who considered the fort to be sufficiently 
strong to resist an attack from the enemy. It was supposed too that the be- 
sieged would always be able to escape, if needful, by crossing the river; and 
a garrison of two thousand men was accordingly left on it, under the commajid 
of Colonel Magaw. 

The American army, deplorably wanting in draught cattle to remove their 
baggage and munitions, advanced to the northward, along the heights above 
the river Bronx, which separated them from the columns of the enemy, who 
followed after on close pursuit. Washington halted at White Plains, Avhere 
he concentrated his forces in a strongly fortified camp. No sooner had they 
come up with him, than the British attacked a detached body of Americans, 
posted on a hill in the neighbourhood of their camp, and succeeded in 
driving them in. A general assault Avas momentarily expected to take place. 
For political reasons, however, afterwards stated before the House of Commons, 
Howe was induced to remain inactive at this critical moment, and Washington 
took advantage of his delay, to remove his whole force by night to a much 
stronger position, on the neighbouring heights of North Castle, where the 
American army stood secure against all further attack. Having thus failed 
to enclose his enemy, Howe suddenly altered his plans, and advancing to the 
southward, hastened to invest Fort Washington, and menace New Jersey and 
Philadelphia. This movement called for a corresponding change on the part 
of Washington. Accordingly, leaving General Lee at the head of about four 
thousand men, including the New England militia, whose term of enlistment 
was about to expire, he ordered all the forces west of the Hudson to make a 
tedious circuit, and cross the river at King's Ferry, at the entrance of the 
Hudson Highlands, the enemy's ships occupying the lower part of the river. 
He next visited the strong posts in the Highlands, ordered fi'esh works to be 
thrown up, and crossing the river, joined his troops at Hackinsac, near Fort 
Lee, exactly opposite to Fort Washington, which the enemy had already 
invested. 

The policy of maintaining this post had always seemed exceedingly 
doubtful ; but it was now too late to evacuate it — the troops could not 'be. 
got off m face of the enemy. Colonel INIagaw had already been summoned to 
surrender, but replied, that it was his intention to defend the post to the 
uttermost. The evening before the attack, Washington was crossing the 
river to visit the garrison, Avhen he met Greene and Putnam coming over 
from it, who assured him the men were in high spirits and would make a 
good defence, which induced him to return with them to the camp. 

The fort stands on bold ground, overlooking the magnificent Hudson, and 



177G.] RETBEAT OF THE AMERICAN ARMY. 407 

the approach to it on the land side is difficult, and obstructed with wood. 
!N'ext morning, the enemy unexpectedly attacked it in four columns, at as 
many different points. Notwithstanding the most strenuous resistance on 
the part of the Americans, who firing from behind the rocks and trees, which 
impeded the ascent, cut off four hundred of their assailants, such was the 
vigour of the attack, and the emulation between the Germans and English, 
that the outworks were successively carried, and the skirmishers driven back 
in tumultuous confusion within the body of the place. 

During the approach of the enemy, Washington, with Putnam, Greene, 
and other officers, had crossed the river, and were ascending to the fort, when 
seeing that they were running the risk of capture for an insufficient object, 
they returned. It is said, that from the post whence he intently watched 
the onset, Washington could see his soldiers bayonetted, when imploring 
mercy on their knees, and was unable to restrain his tears. 

The assailants having forced their way within a hundred yards of the 
fort. Colonel Magaw was again summoned to surrender. With a confused 
and disheartened crowd of fugitives, who could not be brought to man the 
lines, he had no alternative but to comply ; and thus two thousand men, 
with a considerable quantity of artillery, fell into the hands of the victori- 
ous English — another limb lopped off the feeble and disorganized American 
army ! 

Scarcely had Fort Washington fallen, when a body of six thousand men, 
under Lord Cornwallis, one of the most active and energetic of the British 
officers, crossed the Hudson to Fort Lee, to pursue the American army. The 
fort was hurriedly abandoned, Avith a heavy loss of provisions and stores, and 
the garrison joined the main body, which rapidly retreated before the English. 
Such was the profound discouragement occasioned by the then recent suc- 
cesses, that Washington found his army rapidly falling to pieces, and in 
danger of utter and speedy dissolution. During the march, the term of en- 
listment of the corps forming the " Flying Camp," for the protection of New 
Jersey, expired, and no persuasion could induce them to enlist. Destitute 
of every necessary, broken by repeated defeats, and so closely pursued by a 
victorious enemy, a feeling of despair succeeded to the overstrained enthu- 
siasm which had at first animated them, and the only wonder is that even 
the shadow of an army should have remained on foot. 

Earnestly entreating the support of Congress, and the governor of New 
Jersey, AVashington retreated across the Passaic and the Raritan with Lord 
Cornwallis pressing so closely at his heels, that the van of the British army 
entered Newark, and Brunswick, Princeton, and Trenton, just as the Ameri- 
can rear had left. The destruction of the bridge over the Raritan arrested 
the enemy's advance for some hours, and probably saved the baggage and 
artillery. A delay of several hours took place at Brunswick, beyond which 
point Cornwallis had been ordered not to advance. Had that active officer 
been left unfettered, it can hardly be doubted that he would have suc- 
ceeded in overtaking Washington, and capturing his entire force, w^hich 



408 GENERAL LEE TAKEN PRISONER BY THE ENOLISH.lll'iQ. 

had melted away to between fourteen and fifteen hundred men, when he suc- 
ceeded in placing the Delaware between himself and his pursuers. 

Having at length come uj), Howe prepared to pass the river, but all the 
boats had been removed, save one large flour barge, which had accidentally 
been overlooked, and which was only discovered and carried off just in time 
to prevent the British from making use of it to get a party across, seize the 
boats uj)on the opposite side, and pass over their entire army. Baffled at this 
critical moment, they had still the means of making rafts and pontoons, and 
why they neglected to do so, when by one bold stroke they might have crushed 
the enemy and put an end to the war, seems perfectly inexplicable. Washing- 
ton at all events had fully expected it, and declared in his despatch to Con- 
gress, that nothing could have saved him but this inaction of the enemy. 

Since the beginning of the campaign there had been little else' than a series 
of disasters ; Long Island, New York, and the whole of New Jersey had 
fallen into the hands of the victorious English, the army had dwindled' to 
a feeble handful, and seemed incajiable of ever being reorganized. The 
royal commanders probably thought they had well nigh crushed the insur- 
rection, and that the Americans w^ould see the hopelessness of attempting any 
further resistance. By many indeed the cause was believed to be irrecover- 
ably lost. Taking advantage of this state of things, the Howes issued 
another proclamation, promising pardon to all Avho should abandon their op- 
position, and within the space of two months swear allegiance to the king. 
Those provinces which had been the theatre of the campaign, already con- 
tained a large proportion of loyalists, who gladly welcomed the re-establish- 
ment of the royal authority. The lukewarm and timid, seeing the country 
overrun by the enemy's troops, and the miseries of civil war already com- 
mencing, trembled for the security of their families and homes, and for several 
days after the proclamation, hundreds came in and took the oaths. 

During his retreat Washington had despatched repeated messages to 
General Lee, who, it will be remembered, he had left behind in the State of 
New York, to join him immediately with all his forces. With this requisi- 
tion Lee complied with great reluctance and tardiness. Conscious that he was 
almost the only thoroughly educated officer in the American service, he medi- 
tated some exploit which should confer on him a special distinction, and 
wished to retain his separate command, and to watch the contingencies that 
might offer. Compelled at length to obey, he moved in the direction of 
Philadelphia ; but, having taken up his quarters one night in a detached 
building, was, through the information of a Tory, suddenly surprised by a 
party of English horse, and carried prisoner to the camp. As the most ex- 
aggerated idea of his abilities was entertained, so that by many he was called 
the Palladium of America, his loss at this critical juncture deepened the de- 
pression of the patriot party, and it was even suspected, though unfairly, that 
he had adopted this expedient to abandon a sinking cause and return to his 
natural allegiance. The command of his detachment now devolved on 
Sullivan, who repaired with it to the assistance of "Washington. 



1776.] WASHINGTON 3IADE MILITARY DICTATOR. 409 

in anticipation of a speedy attack by the enemy, Washington, at this alarm- 
ing crisis, pressed upon Congress the necessity of more vigorous measures 
for the re-organization of the army. " The enemy," he observes to the pre- 
sident, " are daily gathering strength from the disaffected. This strength, 
like a snowball, will increase by rolling, unless some means can be devised to 
check effectually the progress of the enemy's arms. Militia may probably do 
it for a while, but in a little while also the militia of those States, which have 
been frequently called upon, will not turn out at all, or if they do, it will be 
with so much reluctance and sloth as to amount to the same thing. Instance 
New Jersey ! Witness Pennsylvania ! Could any thing but the river Dela- 
ware have saved Philadelphia ? Can any thing be more destructive to the 
recruiting service, than giving ten dollars bounty for six weeks' service of the 
militia, who come in you cannot tell how, go you cannot tell when, and act 
you cannot tell where, consume your provisions, exhaust your stores, and 
leave you at last at a critical moment ? These, sir, are the men I am to depend 
upon ten days hence, this is the basis on which your cause will and must for 
ever depend, till you get a large standing army sufficient of itself to oppose 
the enemy." 

Notwithstanding the unfortunate reverses that had lately attended his 
arms. Congress had by this tin:e acquired so profound a confidence in the 
character and abilities of Washington, such, besides, was the manifest 
imminence of the peril, that throwing aside their lingering apprehensions 
from the establishment of a standing army, they at once empowered Wash- 
ington to raise and embody one, conferring on him at the same time, for the 
period of six months, the authority of a military dictator. " Happy is it 
for this country," said Congress in their letter to him on this occasion, 
" that the general of their forces can safely be intrusted with the most un- 
limited power, and neither personal security, liberty, or property, be in the 
least degree endangered thereby." 

Leaving Washington to obtain a little breathing time before sustaining 
fresh attacks, let us turn our attention to the northern army, which, as before 
observed, after the daring but unsuccessful attack upon Quebec, had been 
driven discomfited out of Canada, and taken refuge on the shores of Lake 
Champlain. Upon the first distribution of commands, Philip Schuyler, a 
wealthy and influential gentleman in the neighbourhood of Albany, had been 
appointed general in the northern district. The same mutual jealousies which 
had already been so rife in Washington's camp, prevailed between the sol- 
diers of New England and New York ; and Schuyler, as a leading inhabitant 
of the latter province, had become unpopular with the former. Owing to 
the arts of the New England delegates in Congress, Gates had been ap- 
pointed to the command of the northern army over his head. His enemies 
having even accused him of treachery, he offered his resignation, which Con- 
gress however refused to accept, and in his subordinate position he continued 
zealously to labour for his country's cause, and eventually rendered her the 
most vital services. 

3 G 



410 PREPARING FOR AN ENGAGEMENT. [177G. 

General Carleton, tlae :ible governor of Canada, having obtained reinforce- 
ments from England, had advanced to the northern extremity of Lake 
Champlain with thirteen thousand troops!, with which he was eager to pursue 
and destroy the disorganized American army, now reduced by malignant 
diseases and continual desertion to a feeble body of five thousand men. But all 
the boats on the lake had been withdrawn, and the American force, abandon- 
ing Crown Point, had been judiciously secured witliin the walls of Fort 
Ticonderoga. The entire lake thus intervened betwixt the two armies ; its 
shores, still covered with thick forests, were impassable by land. As there was 
no doubt that Carleton would speedily equip a flotilla to pursue the Ameri- 
cans, Gates resolved to prepare another Avith which to imj)ede his progress. 
The design was carried out with indefatigable perseverance, ship carpenters 
and stores were brought from the New England sea-ports, and in the course 
of three months, by the middle of August, sixteen vessels of different burden 
"were ready to contest possession of the lake. 

A new opportunity was thus opened to Arnold, ready to meet any odds so 
that he could but gratify that thirst for distinction, that love of daring and 
desperate enterprise, of which he had already given such signal proofs in the 
romantic expedition to Quebec. Although susjjected of dishonesty, and dis- 
liked for his restless, jealous, and turbulent character, his courage and conduct 
were unquestionable, and as he had moreover formerly been a shipmaster, he 
received from Gates the command of the little flotilla. 

Carleton, meanwhile, had been no less active than his opponents, and as 
the resources at his command were much greater than theirs, the results were 
proportionably imposing. The frames of five large vessels, prepared in Eng- 
land and brought across by land from Montreal to St. John's, were soon put 
together on the lake. A large number of gun-boats were also brought from 
the St. Lawrence and dragged over the rapids of the Sorel at Fort Chambly. 
This flotilla was worked by seven hundred seamen from the British ships, 
whereas the American was manned by soldiers drafted from the army. 

Cautiously advancing up the lake, Arnold, aware of the disadvantage he 
would be placed under in the open expanse with so inferior a force, posted 
his vessels with great judgment in the narrow channel between Valcour 
Island and the shore, so that he could neither be surrounded nor attacked 
except in front by a portion of the enemy's flotilla. Early on the morn- 
ing of the 11th of October, they came in sight, led by Captain Pringle 
in the Inflexible, the youthful Edward Pellfew, afterwards so brilliantly 
distinguished as Lord Exmouth, being among his officers. Sweeping round 
the southern point of the island, the English vessels were soon engaged 
with the American, and the combat raged for fon.r hours with the most 
desperate fury. Arnold had posted himself on board the " Congress " 
galley, he pointed every gun with his own hand, and cheered on his men with 
his characteristic enthusiasm. His men fell dead around him, the hull of 
his ship riddled with cannon-balls, the mainmast shattered, and the rigging 
cut to pieces, yet still he continued to fight on. The position he had chosen 



177G.] THE AMERICANS DEFEA TED ON LAKE CHAMP LAIN. 411 

greatly neutralized tlie superior force of the enemy, and thus the battle was 
yet undecided, when night closed in upon the scene. 

One of the American vessels had been burned, another sunk, and the 
lest had suffered very severely. To renew the combat on the morrow Avas so 
obviously hopeless, that Arnold and his officers, after holding consultation, 
determined upon falling back to Crown Point. This however was much 
easier to resolve on than to execute, for the British commander had disjDosed 
his ships in a line from the island to the shore, so as to prevent the retreat of 
his enemy till daylight should enable him to attack and overpower him. But 
the night happened to be unusually dark, it blew a stiff breeze from the 
north, and as soon as the English sailors had retired to rest after a hard- 
fought day, the American ships hoisted their sails, and slipped unperceived be- 
tween those of the foe, Arnold fetching up the rear in the battered and 
crazy " Congress," and by daylight had placed full ten miles between them- 
selves and their too powerful opponents. 

No sooner was the flight discovered, than the English, full of shame 
and vexation, crowded all sail in pursuit. A contrary wind bafHed them 
during the day, but on the following morning they were close upon the fugi- 
tives. The foremost ships continued their flight and succeeded in effecting 
their escape, but the rear, consisting of Arnold's galley, with the " Wash- 
ington " and four gondolas, were attacked with redoubled fury. The "Wash- 
ington " was soon obliged to strike, but Arnold continued to fight on till his 
ship was reduced to a mere wreck and surrounded by the enemy's squadron. 
He then ran the "Congress " and the four gondolas on shore, set them on fire, 
and wading on shore with his men, drew them up in line to guard the burning 
vessels against the approach of the enemy, lest they should be carried off as 
trophies. Having waited till they were consumed, he effected his escape 
through the woods to Crown Point, narrowly escaping an Indian ambush 
which was posted to cut him off only an hour after he passed. 

The result of this protracted encounter was disastrous for the Americans, 
who lost eleven vessels, and for those of the British. Carleton immediately 
advanced to Crown Point, with the intention of attacking Ticonderoga, but the 
garrison had by this time been increased to eight thousand men, it was now 
the middle of October, and the English general was reluctantly obliged to 
retire into winter quarters. 

The year 1776, so disastrous to the Americans, was now drawing to a close. 
Howe and Cornwallis had returned to New York, and the English army, distri- 
buted in cantonments on the Delaware and its borders, considered the campaign 
was at an end. Three regiments of the much-dreaded Hessians, tinder 
Colonel Ralle, a brave and distinguished officer, together with a ti'oop of 
British light-horse, lay at Trenton, and smaller detachments in the neigh- 
bouring forts of Bordentown, Burlington, Black Horse, and Mount Holly. 
The festivities of Christmas were at hand, and in presence of an enemy they 
looked upon as virtually crushed, it was justly anticipated by Washington that 
the British would give themselves up to enjoyment, and their usual vigilance 

3 G 2 



413 WASHINGTON SURPRISES THE HESSIANS. [1776. 

would be relaxed. Being by this time reinforced by the arrival of Lee's 
division, and other succours, he determined to take advantage of this state of 
things, to strike a blow that might redeem an unfortunate campaign, and in- 
spire the army and tke country with renovated courage. Having matured 
his plans, he divided his forces into three corps, Avith the first of which, ac- 
companied by Greene and Sullivan, he proposed to pass the Delaware at 
M'^Konkey's ferry, nine miles above Trenton, and fall upon the Hessians in 
that town. The second division, under General Irwin, was to cross over at 
Trenton ferry, and by stopping the bridge over the Assumpink, cut off the 
enemy's retreat; while the third, under General Cadwallader,was to cross lower 
down from Bristol over to Burlington. Had the plan been executed at all 
points it must have resulted in the capture of the whole line of British canton- 
ments, but owing to invincible obstacles it turned out but partially successful. 

The evening of Christmas day, for obvious reasons, was chosen as the most 
propitious for a surprise. It proved to be most bitter even for that incle- 
ment season, the cold so intense that two of the soldiers were frozen to death. 
The night was very obscure, it snowed and hailed incessantly, and the gloomy 
waters of the Delaware half choked with masses of ice, crashing against 
the distant rocks with a sound like thunder. But the worse the weather, it 
was so far better for the purpose, that the enemy would be lulled into deeper 
security. The soldiers were exhorted to redeem their previous fiilures, and 
reminded that the fate of their country depended upon their firmness and 
courage, and they marched down to the place of embarkation with a feeling 
of enthusiastic determination. 

Washington had expected that the passage of his division might have been 
effected by midnight, but the dreadful weather, the encumbered state of the 
river, and the difficulty of getting across the artillery, occasioned so much 
delay, that it was four o'clock before the whole body were in marching 
order on the opposite shore. The darkness of a winter morning was still 
further deepened by a heavy fog, and the road was rendered slippery by a 
frosty mist. As it would be daylight before they coidd reach Trenton, the 
main object of the enterprise seemed to be disconcerted ; but there was now 
no alternative but to proceed. Washington took the upper road, Avhile 
Sullivan commanded the lower ; and about eight in the morning both parties 
encountered the pickets of the enemy, who keeping up a fire ft'om behind the 
houses, fell back upon the town, and aroused their comrades. The Americans 
followed them up so closely, that they were able to open a battery at the end 
of the main street, before the drowsy Hessians could offer any cfifectual re- 
sistance. 

, It is said, that on the morning of the surjjrise. Colonel Balle, who had been 
carousing all night after an entertainment, was still engaged at cards, when 
a warning note, forwarded by a Tory who had discovered the approach of 
the Americans, was handed to him by the negro porter, as being of par- 
ticular importance. • He thrust it into his pocket and continued the game, 
till aroused at length by the roll of the American drums and the sound 



1776.] THE HESSIANS OBLIGED TO SURRENDER, 413 

of musketry, he started to his legs, hurried to his quarters, mounted his horse, 
and in a few moments was at the head of his troops, vainly attempting to 
stem the progress of the Americans. In a few moments, he fell to the 
ground mortally wounded, and was carried away to his quarters. All order 
was noAV at an end ; the Germans, panic-struck, gave way, and endeavoured 
to escape by the road to Princeton ; but were intercepted by a party judi- 
ciously placed there for the purpose, and compelled to surrender at discre- 
tion, to the number of about a thousand men. Six cannon, a thousand stand 
of arms, and four colours adorned the triumph of Washington. In this mo- 
ment of brilliant success, purchased at the expense of others, he was not un- 
mindful of the duties of humanity ; but, accompanied by Greene,. paid a visit 
to the dying Hessian leader, and soothed his passage to the grave by the ex- 
pression of that grateful and generous sympathy, which one brave man owes 
to another, even when engaged in opposite causes. 

Had Irwin been able to cross at Trenton ferry, and occupy the Assumpink 
bridge, the English light-horse must also have been cut off; but such was 
the accumulation of the floating ice at this particular point, that he had found 
it impossible to perform his portion of the plan, and thus the division above 
mentioned hurried across the Assumpink, in the direction of Bordentown, and 
escaped. The same obstacle prevented Cadwallader from crossing over to 
Burlington ; he succeeded indeed in landing a body of troops, but the state 
of the ice prevented the artillery from being got ashore ; and unable to pro- 
ceed without it, he was obliged to recross the Delaware. 

As considerable bodies of the English were at a short distance, and his 
troops were exhausted with fatigue and cold, Washington thought it prudent 
immediately to recross the river with his prisoners. The effect produced 
upon the drooping spirits of the Americans by this daring and successful 
achievement, especially in Philadelphia, was indescribable. On the alarming 
news of Washington's retreat from the Hudson, and the near approach of the 
British, Congress had thought prudent to leave the city and retire to Balti- 
more. The citizens, expecting to be shortly attacked, were in a state of great 
excitement — the partisans of the royal cause eager to witness its triumph by the 
capture of the city, while the friends of Congress were proportionally alarmed. 
To overawe the former, and encourage the latter, the Hessians were paraded 
with military pomp through the streets of the city, the people scarcely be- 
lieving their eyes, when they saw these dreaded foreigners defiling as cap- 
tives before them — trophies of the valour of that army which some had hoped, 
and others feared, was irrecoverably disgraced and broken. Nor were the 
English commanders less astonished and confounded, when they heard that 
the enemy whom they had fondly believed to be crushed, had turned and 
routed his pursuers. They discovered that they had to do with a commander 
no less daring than he was cautious, whose steady determination no defeat 
could shake ; who, on one hand, was prepared to retreat, if needful, even to 
the fastnesses of the Alleghanies, and on the other, ready to take advantage 
of the least oversight on their OAvn part, to convert defeat into victory. 



414 THE AMERICANS LEA VE TRENTON BY NIGHT. [1777. 

Cornwallis, who was about to embark for Europe, was immediately de- 
spatched to take the command of the troops in New Jersey. On arriving there, 
he found that Washington had again crossed over to Trenton, and was pre- 
pared to act upon the offensive. It happened that the term of several regi- 
ments had expired, and the men were anxious to return to their homes, but 
by persuasion and a bounty, had been induced to remain in the service. The 
whole American force, now concentrated at Trenton, amounted however only 
to about four thousand men. 

Having obtained reinforcements at Brunswick, Cornwallis, with his usual 
celerity, pushed on to attack Washington, who, on his approach, retired into 
intrenchments behind the river Assumpink, the bridge and ford over which 
were carefully guarded. The whole day attempts were made, but in vain, to 
pass the stream, and a cannonade was kept up against the intrenchments. The 
following day, Cornwallis intended to storm the works, and should he, as was 
but too probable, succeed, the American army, with the Delaware behind 
them, must inevitably be captured. To abide his attack would therefore be 
an act of foolish temerity, while to attempt to recross the river in presence of 
his army would be still more hazardous. A council of war was called, at which 
the bold design was adopted of getting into the rear of the English, falling 
upon their magazines at Brunswick, and carrying the war again from the 
neighbourhood of Philadelphia into the mountainous interior of New Jersey. 

Not a moment was to be lost. The superfluous baggage was sent down 
the river to Burlington, the watch-fires were kept up, the patrols ordered to 
go their rounds, and, still further to deceive the enemy, parties sent out to 
labour at the intrenchments within hearing of their sentinels. About mid- 
night the army silently defiled from the camp, and marched off in a circuit- 
ous and difficult road towards Princeton. 

It was a brilliant winter morning when they drew near that town, and 
General Mercer was sent forward by a by-road to seize a bridge at Worth's 
mills, so as to cut off" any fugitives, and also check any pursuit on the part of 
Cornwallis. Three British regiments, destined to reinforce the latter, had 
passed the night in Princeton, and two of them, the 17th and 40th, under 
Colonel Mawhood, had already set out, when they suddenly came in sight of the 
approaching Americans, with whom they were almost immediately in action. 
The Americans, posted behind a fence, poured in a heavy and well-directed 
volley, after receiving which, the British, with fixed bayonets, charged them 
with such impetuosity, that abandoning their shelter they broke and flc-d pre- 
cipitately, closely pursued by their victorious enemies. Both fugitives and 
pursuers, however, were suddenly arrested by the sight of the troops under 
Washington, who, beholding the rout, hastened on, colours in hand, to rally 
the discomfited Americans. At no time in his life, perhaps, was he exposed 
to more imminent hazard. The Americans immediately rallied, the English 
re-formed their line, both levelled their guns and prepared to fire, while 
Washington, whose ardour had hurried him forward into a most perilous pre- 
dicament, stood like a mark for the bullets of both. Fitzgerald, his aide- 



1T77.] WASHINGTON'S VICTORY AT PRINCETON. 415 

de-camp, dropjjed the reins upon his horse's neck, and shuddering, drew 
his hat over his face, that he might not see his leader die. A tremendous 
volley was heard, then a shout of triumph, and when the trembling officer 
ventured to look up, the form of Washington was dimly seen amidst the 
rolling smoke, urging forward his men to attack the enemy. Fitzgerald 
burst into tears, and putting spurs to his horse, dashed after his beloved com- 
mander. The British, however, did not await the onset. Mawhood, already 
severely handled and seeing reinforcements about to come up, abandoned his 
artillery, wheeled off, and regaining the Trenton road, continued his march 
to join CoruAvallis without any further molestation. 

Washington now advanced to Princeton, encountering in his way the 
British 55th, which after a brave resistance, finding it impossible to follow 
the 17th, retreated in the direction of Brunswick, accompanied by the 40th, 
which had been but very partially engaged. On entering Princeton a part 
of this regiment was found to be in occupation of the college, who made some 
show of resistance, but on cannon being brought up, and the door of the 
building forced in, they were obliged to surrender themselves prisoners. 

In this battle the Americans had to deplore the loss of the gallant General 
Mercer, an officer much beloved by the army and Washington, with whom 
he had served in the American and French wars. Dismounting from his 
horse to rally his broken column, he was struck down by a blow from a 
musket, and the enemy, mistaking him for Washington, exclaimed, " The 
rebel general is taken ! " Several soldiers pushed forward, exclaiming, " Call 
for quarter, you d — d rebel." " I am no rebel," cried Mercer, endeavouring 
to defend himself with his sword ; upon which he was instantly pierced with 
several bayonets, and left, as the soldiers imagined, in the agonies of death. 
He was carried off the field to a neighbouring house, where he lingered for 
some days in extreme suffisring. As soon as Washington received the news, 
he despatched a flag to Cornwallis by the hands of his nephew Captain Lewis, 
requesting that the latter might remain with the sinking hero till he died, a 
request which was immediately granted. His body was transported to Phila-- 
delphia, and now reposes in the beautiful cemetery at Laurel Hill. 

Short time was given to Washington to profit by this success at Princeton. 
It is said that Lord Erskine had urged Cornwallis the evening before to attack 
the Americans at once, lest Washington should escape him in the night, but 
this he believed to be impossible. Next morning the distant sound of artil- 
lery, and the empty intrenchments in front of him, proved but too plainly 
that Erskine's prognostications were realized. The English general was in- 
stantly in motion, and as the Americans were ready to leave Princeton, was 
close upon their traces. Worn out with a night march and a hard- 
fought battle, famished with hunger, some barefoot and bleeding, and all 
miserably provided with necessaries, they were in no condition to await his 
approach. Aware that Cornwallis would immediately follow him, Washing- 
ton detached a party to break down the before-mentioned bridge at Worth's 
mills, and they had partly succeeded in demolishing it, when the British 



416 THE AMERICANS RETIRE TO MORRISTOWK [1777. 

came in sight. They instantly opened a fire upon the Americans, who had 
already loosened the planks, Major Kelley, their leader, continuing to cut 
away a log on which they rested, while the balls were whistling about his ears. 
At length it fell into the stream, and he with it, and was afterwards cap- 
tured, but the communication was effectually stopped for the present. Corn- 
wallis ordered his soldiers to ford the swollen waters, breast deep and filled 
with ice ; • they obeyed, and advanced towards Trenton, but kept in check 
by a battery and the necessity of reconnoitring the enemy, were some time 
in reaching the town ; and when they did, they found that the American 
army had a second time escaped their clutches. 

Washington pushed on in the direction of the fugitive regiments, and 
when three miles north of Princeton, held a brief council on horseback with 
his officers. With an exhausted and inferior force, it would have been mad- 
ness to carry out their original design upon the British stores at Princeton, it 
was well indeed if they could even save the troops. Cornwallis was close 
upon their heels, they struck into a by-road, crossed the river at Kingston, 
and breaking down the bridge after them, retreated, as fast as their enfeebled 
condition would permit, towards the hilly country to the nortlnvard. Many 
dropped on the road from fatigue and fell asleep. They reached Pluckemin 
that evening, and on the following day retired still farther back to Morris- 
town, where Washington put his suffering troops into winter qviarters. By a 
brilliant and successful movement, he had redeemed the inauspicious opening 
of the campaign, and by his mingled caution and daring, had acquired the 
title of "the American Fabius." 



CHAPTER XL 



PROCEEDINGS OE CONGRESS. — CAMPAIGN OF 1777. — BATTLE OF THE BRANDYWINE. — OCCUPATIGjr 
OF PHILADELPHIA. — EXPEDITION AND SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. — BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 
— CONWAY CABAL. — WINTER ENCAMPMENT AT VALLEY FORGE. 



To insure the triumph of the Americans, in the face of the most formidable 
obstacles, three things, it is evident, were indispensable — first, the patriotic 
zeal of the people ; secondly, the firmness and ability of Congress ; and 
thirdly, that rare union of noble qualities which adorned the commander-in- 
chief. It is hardly too much to say, that had any one of these conditions 
been wanting, the cause of the republic must inevitably have failed. 

Happily, the men who had assumed the helm of affiiirs at this momentous 
juncture, were fully equal to their task. Having m vain laboured to procure 
an honourable reconciliation with England, and taken the decisive measure 



1777.] DIFFICULTIES IN SUPPORTING THE ARMY. 417 

of renouncing her supremacy, tliey had resolved that no temporary dis- 
couragements should induce them to surrender their cause. Their spirits, on 
the contrary, rose with the emergency, their powers were called forth, and the 
energy and vigour of their counsels responded to the perils which threatened 
to overwhelm their country. 

One of their first difficulties was, besides organizing a standing army, to 
furnish money for its pay and support. There was but one expedient at their 
command, namely, the emissions of bills of credit ; and during the eighteen 
months which had elapsed since the breaking out of hostilities, they had 
authorized an issue of twenty millions of dollars. Besides this general bur- 
den, the different States had issued largely on private account ; and at length 
it became obvious, that a depreciation could no longer be prevented. Loan 
offices were accordingly opened in the different States, to borrow five millions 
of dollars, to be reimbursed in three years; but as this was far from meeting 
the difficulty. Congress were reluctantly obliged to resort to fresh issues. The 
depreciation continued to increase so rapidly, that a resolution was passed, 
declaring that their bills ought to pass current in all transactions for the same 
value in Spanish dollars, and that all persons refusing to take them as such, 
were to be deemed enemies of their country, and rendered liable to forfeitures 
and fines. Among the stringent powers devolved on Washington, was also 
the enforcing of this regulation. As the natural effect of these measures was 
to bring about a rise in prices, measures no less arbitrary, though justified by 
the necessity of the moment, were enacted, to fix the prices of all articles re- 
quired by the army, and even to compel the traders to furnish them when 
able, though unwilling, to do so. 

The pressure of the occasion also compelled Congress to seek for support 
from foreign powers. The position of Great Britain was at that time so 
proud and threatening, that all Europe felt jealous of her increasing influence, 
and secretly desired her humiliation. Especially did France, her hereditary 
enemy, stung by the recent loss of her Canada, labour to promote dissension 
between the Americans and their rvilers. Franklin had observed, w^hen at 
London, " that this intriguing nation would like to blow the coals of discord, 
but he hoped no occasion would be offered them." The case, however, was 
now widely different, and the secret offers of the French were eagerly re- 
sponded to by Congress. During November, 1775, at Philadelphia, they were 
told that a foreigner was desirous of obtaining a private co7\ference. The 
application remained for some time unnoticed ; but at length a committee, 
consisting of John Jay, Jefferson, and Franklin, was appointed to receive his 
communications. The agent, an old French officer, told them that the king 
of France rejoiced at their exertions in the cause of liberty, that he wished 
them success, and when circumstances permitted, would openly espouse their 
cause. " (jentlemen,"' he said, " ii' you want arms, you shall have them ; 
if you want ammunition, you shall have it ; if you want money, you shall 
have it." Observing that these assurances were most imjjortant, the com- 
mittee then sought to obtain some more definite authority for them ; but this 

3 B 



418 CONGRESS SENDS COMMISSIONERS TO FRANCE. [1T77. 

the old agent evaded, by drawing his hand across his throat, with the ex- 
l^ressive addition, " Gentlemen, I shall take care of my head ! " After this 
meeting he disappeared ; but the hint was not lost upon his auditors. It 
was evident that Louis, while anxious to promote the cause of the colonists, 
wished to avoid committing himself to a war with Great Britain, until it had 
been proved that their resolution was to be depended upon. 

Arthur Lee, who still remained at London, occupied in watching the move- 
ments of the English, entered into relations with the French ambassador, 
soon after the breaking out of hostilities. Through their contrivance, Ver- 
gennes, the French minister for foreign affairs, had sent Beaumarchais, the 
celebrated dramatist, to concert a plan for surreptitiously forwarding supplies 
of arms and stores to America, under the disguise of a fictitious trading firm. 
Shortly afterwards, Silas Deane was sent over to Paris, ostensibly as a private 
merchant, but in reality as political agent. Congress having at length re- 
solved upon a treaty with foreign powers, with whom their commercial rela- 
tions, no longer under the restrictions of dependency on Great Britain, were 
every day becoming more important; it was determined to appoint Franklin, 
Ueane, and Jefferson, as commissioners to the French court. Jefferson being 
prevented from accepting the post, Lee was appointed his substitute. Frank- 
lin went over in the Reprisal, the first American frigate that had 3ver ap- 
peared on the shores of Europe, and was soon joined by Lee from London, 
Though not openly accredited by the French government, they were treated 
with distinction, and privately supplied with funds for the purchase of arms and 
military stores. Some of these were intercepted by the British cruisers, but 
others arrived at their destination, and were found to be a very seasonable relief. 

The scientific reputation, benevolent temper, and venerable appearance of 
Franklin, attracted genuine regard, and he became the object of universal 
attention. Much enthusiasm was awakened among the young and ardent in 
France, and throughout Europe, for the cause of the oppressed and gallant 
. Americans, and many prepared to go over to their assistance, some merely 
military adventurers in quest of pay and promotion, but others animated by 
an enthusiastic love of freedom. Such was Thaddeus Kosciusko, of a noble 
Polish fiimily, who had received a military education, and becoming ac- 
quainted with Franklin at Paris, went over to America with a recommenda- 
tion from him to General Washington. 

On liis arrival he rej^aired to the commander-in-chief, who inquired his 
object. " I come," he said, " to fight as a volunteer for American independ- 
ence." " Wliat can you do?" said Washington. " Try me," was the simple 
reply : and the general, delighted with him, appointed 'him one of his aides. 
He afterwards obtained the grade of Colonel of Engineers, and rendered im- 
portant sei-\dce in fortifying West Point, in the Hudson Highlands, where a 
monument has been erected to his memory. After the revolutionary war he 
returned to fight the battles of his own country, and was taken prisoner by the 
Russians. The emperor, eager to obtain the services of such a hero, offered 
him his own sword, which he returned with the saying, " I no longer need a 



1777.*] LAFAYETTE JOINS THE AMERICANS. 419 

sword, since I have no longer a country to defend." A no less illustrious 
volunteer was the youthful Marquis de La Fayette, afterwards so conspicu- 
ous and disinterested an actor in two successive revolutions. Fired, at the 
age of nineteen, with the story of American resistance to British oppression, 
he left a young wife to whom he was tenderly attached, and, spite of the 
prohibition of the French ministry, anxious to avoid openly assisting the 
Americans, he purchased a vessel, and, with a chosen body of military com- 
rades, reached America in safety, and presented his credentials to the Com- 
mittee of Foreign Affairs. Owing to the numerous applications for employ- 
ment, he received at first a very discouraging answer ; but when he 
expressed his desire to serve as a volunteer, and receive no pay, his claims 
were admitted, and he shortly afterwards received the grade of major-general. 
He was at once received into unrestrained intimacy by Washington, who 
desired him to consider the head-quarters as his home, and the friendship 
thus founded endured without interruption until death. 

The winter passed ;iway at INIorristown amidst considerable privation on 
the pai't of the American army, and anxious care and continual correspond- 
ence on the part of Washington. The recruiting made but slow progress, 
and the organization of the new army was a Avork of difficulty. There was 
a great deficiency of stores, and to crown all, the small pox broke out in the 
camp. It was iiuperatively necessary to stimulate the different States to the 
performance of their respective duties, and to reconcile the jarring claims of 
candidates for precedence. Many of the States had either sent in their con- 
tingents without making the necessary appointments, or had made them 
with so little judgment that their rectification became indispensable. It re- 
quired the utmost tact on the part of Washington to exercise the absolute 
powers invested in him, in such a manner as at once to strengthen the public 
service and conciliate the feelings of the numerous aspirants. 

Meanwhile the state of the country, and more especially of the seat of war, 
now became daily more distracted. When the British had triumphed in New 
Jersey, many, as before said, had taken the oaths of allegiance in the hope of 
escaping the miseries of civil war. They had been bitterly deceived in this 
expectation. The Hessians, it was found, overran the country like a con- 
quered province, plunder and outrages of the worst description became com- 
mon, female virtue was exposed to insult, and in these excesses but little dif- 
ference was made between friend and foe. It was not in the power of Howe 
altogether to repress this military licence on the part of his German allies, and 
it soon worked a powerful reaction in favour of the republican cause among 
those who had at first hesitated or refused to embrace it. Stung to madness 
by these outrages, the farmers combined with Washington's troops to harass 
the royal army, make prisoners of detached bodies, cut off" their supplies, and 
to expel them from the open country, so that they were now little better than 
prisoners where they had so recently found themselves conquerors. Nor 
were the royal mercenaries alone to blame in this respect. Taking advantage 
of party excitement and the growing disorganization, many of Washington's 

2 H 2 



420 A PROCLAMATION AGAINST NEUTRALITY. [1777. 

troops Indulged in similar licence at tlie expense of parties who had ohservcd 
a peaceful neutrality, and Washington had repeatedly to issue the most 
stringent orders " against the infamous practice of plundering the inhabitants 
under pretence that they are Tories." Neutrality, however, was no longer 
possible. In reply to Howe's proclamation requiring allegiance to the king, 
Washington now issued a counter one, commanding " all persons who had re- 
ceived protections from the British commissioners, either to give them up and 
swear allegiance at all hazards to the United States, or in thirty days to 
withdraw themselves and their families within the enemy's lines." Ow- 
ing to this arbitrary order, which excited murmurs from the New Jersey 
legislature, and which political necessity could alone justify, the neutral were 
forced to choose a side ; exposed, should they embrace the popular cause, to 
the outrages of the British, and if they preferred the British, to reprisals on 
the part of their own countrymen. Moreover, by a recommendation of 
Livingston, the state legislature of New Jersey decreed that the estates of all 
such refugees as did not return within a limited period, were to be confiscated. 
Thus were the most moderate compelled to become partisans, while mutual 
animosity was inflamed to the highest pitch. 

We are here called upon to distinguish a second time between that class of 
Tories, who from principle adhered, though passively, to the cause of the 
mother country, and were unwilling, till compelled, or ill-treated, to take 
part in the quarrel, and that more active body who, regarding the republicans 
as rebels, pursued them with the most implacable and vindictive animosity. 
It was by these men, rather than the British themselves, that the prisoners in 
New York, shut up in convict ships, were treated with the most unfeeling 
cruelty, against which Washington felt it to be his duty to protest, and in 
which Howe strenuously denied any wilful participation. 

The most indefatigable of the latter class was Tryon, the governor of New 
York, who had been appointed major-general in the British service. As 
soon as the spring was sufficiently advanced, he was intrusted with an expe- 
dition to Danbury, an inland town in Connecticut, to destroy a quantity of 
provisions which had been there collected for the use of the American army. 
Landing between Fairfield and Norwalk, he reached the place without op- 
position, and succeeded in entirely efiecting his object, after which he endea- 
voured to make good his retreat. General Wooster however intercepted him 
with a corps of militia, and while encouraging his men, in a narrow pass, 
" not to mind the random firing of the enemy," fell mortally wounded with a 
chance bullet. Here was another o]3portunity for the imj)etuous Arnold, 
who happened to be in the neighbourhood, and repairing to the scene of 
action, blockaded the road, and with two hundred men confronted for a 
quarter of an hour as many thousand, till his horse was shot dead under him. 
The Americans, seeing their leader fallen, took to their heels, and a Tory 
rushing np to the prostrate Arnold with his bayonet exclaimed, '' Surren- 
der ! you are my prisoner." " Not yet," exclaimed Arnold, as he started 
to his feet, shot dead his assailant, escaped amidst a shower of bullets, and 



1777.] DESTRUCTION OF STORES FOR THE ARMIES. 421 

hurried forward to animate another body of militia by his example. In so doing, 
a second horse was shot under him, but Tryon with difficulty succeeded in get- 
ting back to his ships. The gallantry of Arnold was justly appreciated, and a 
horse, handsomely caparisoned, was presented to him by order of Congress. 

If Washington at this period had to struggle with complicated difficulties, 
neither was the British general exempt from them. He had been unable to 
terminate the war in a single campaign, and his requisitions to the ministry 
at home for reinforcements were but tardily responded to. The ministers 
had all along laboured under an illusion, that the partisans of the royal 
cause were far more numerous and influential than they proved to be, and 
would enlist in considerable numbers. The vigorous measures of Congress 
had however intimidated them, and but few came forward and enrolled them- 
selves in the ranks. Supplies too of all kinds, in a hostile country, must be 
derived from England at vast expense and with very considerable delay. 
OAving to these difficulties, Howe had been compelled to remain almost inac- 
tive, and to contract his operations until further sujccour should arrive. All 
that he was able to accomplish was the sending out one or two expeditions to 
destroy the American stores. 

Of these a considerable quantity had been accumulated at Peekskill, a vil- 
lage situated on the Hudson river, just at the entrance of the romantic High- 
lands, which had been diligently fortified by Washington, and as a post of 
great importance defended by a detachment from the American army. As 
the command of the river was open to the English, they were enabled to suc- 
ceed in their enterprise without much difficulty ; and a considerable quantity 
of stores and ammunition fell into their hands. The Americans reciprocated 
by seizing a quantity of provisions deposited by the British at Sagg Har- 
bour, on Long Island, confided to the charge of a schooner with twelve guns 
and a single company of infantry. This gallant exploit was successfully 
performed by Lieut.-Col. Meigs, at the head of a body of Connecticut recruits. 
These mutual annoyances, together with desultory skirmishes at the outposts, 
ushered in the momentous campaign of the year 1777. 

But before commencing its narration, we should not omit to notice a cor- 
respondence between Washington and Congress, which strikingly displays 
both his prudence and humanity. Upon the capture of General Lee, Howe 
persisted in regarding that officer as a deserter from the king's service, al- 
though he had resigned his commission before joining the Americans, and on 
this ground subjected him to an unusual rigour of treatment. Congress de- 
termined to retort by inflicting similar treatment upon their British and Hes- 
sian prisoners. Against a system so unwise, as well as unjust, Washington 
did not fail to remonstrate earnestly. " In point of policy, he observed, imder 
the present situation of our affairs, this doctrine cannot be supported. The 
balance of prisoners is greatly against us, and a general regard to the happi- 
ness of the Avhole should mark our conduct. Can we imagine, that our ene- 
mies will not mete the same punishments, the same indignities, the same 
cruelties, to those belonging to us in their possession, that we unpose on theirs 



422 OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1777. [1777. 

in our power ? AVliy should we suppose tliem to possess more humanity than 
we have ourselves ? Or why should an ineffectual attempt to relieve the dis- 
tresses of one brave unfortunate man, involve many more in the same calam- 
ities ? " While thus opposing the vindictive policy of Congress, he did not 
fail to remonstrate against the inhuman treatment of the American prisoners. 
Many of these, when released upon exchange from the crowded and loath- 
some jails of New York, could scarcely stand from debility, and died soon 
after, in consequence of their cruel sufferings. Washington refused to ren- 
der back an equal number of able-bodied British and Hessians for these 
martyrs to their country's cause, respecting whom he observed, " that though 
they could not, from their wretched situation, be deemed proper for an ex- 
change, yet humanity required that they should be permitted to return to 
their countrymen." 

The spring Avas far advanced before Howe was in a position to open the 
campaign, and Washington, from his camp at Morristown, anxiously watched 
for the first movements of the enemy. It was known that General Burgoyne 
had assumed the command in Canada, but as yet his intentions were unde- 
veloped. A quantity of vessels and pontoons, it was ascertained, Avas also 
provided at New York, apparently for an impending attack upon Philadelphia. 
In order to cover that city, Washington now moved down to a strong camp 
at Middlebrook, with an army increased to forty-three regiments, but so im- 
perfectly filled u]3 that the number of troops was only about eight thousand. 

It was not till the "middle of June that Howe marched out of New Bruns- 
wick, ostensibly to attack Philadelphia, but in reality, if possible, to draw 
Washington from his defences, and bring on a general engagement, which 
his opponent was equally anxious to avoid. With this view he artfully made 
a retrograde movement towards Amboy, which drew down Washington from 
the high ground as far as Quibbletown, when Howe, as suddenly turning 
round, endeavoured to cut him off from the hills ; but his wary adversary 
made good his retreat to Middlebrook. Foiled in this object, Howe retired 
to Staten Island to meditate a fresh attack. 

Information having reached the English general of Burgoyne's meditated 
expedition from Canada, of which we shall presently speak more fully. Sir 
Henry Clinton was left at New York, with four thousand men, in order to 
co-operate with him, while Howe embarked Avith the main body of his army, 
intending to attack Philadelphia in another direction. As Washington soon 
received authentic ncAVS that Burgoyne Avas advancing upon Ticonderoga, this 
moA^ement of HoAve's occasioned him the greatest perplexity. It Avas uncer- 
tain Avhether he meant to ascend the Hudson, and co-operate with Bur- 
goyne, to sail up the Delaware, or even to attack Boston. Supposing it 
was the first, Washington advanced toAvards the Highlands ; but when the 
ships had been, by his spies, reported steering to the southward, he directed 
his march toAvards Philadelphia. The fleet, however, instead of ascending 
the DelaAvare, had been seen sailing to the eastward, a moA^ement Avhich re- 
quired fresh attention ; finally, it was again descried to the soutliAvard^ until 



1777.] POSITION OF THE AMERICAN AEMY. 423 

it was tlie general impression that it was gone down to Cliarleston. During 
these movements and counter-movements, Washington had repaired to Phila~ 
delphia, where he had an interview with Congress, and had marched down his 
army to GermantoAvn, in order to be ready for any casualty. It was not until 
the 22nd of August, that certain information came in that the British ships 
had entered the Chesapeake, and landed the troops at the head of Elk river, 
whence, as soon as his stores and, baggage were landed, Howe directed his 
march upon Philadelphia. 

Although inferior even in numbers, and still more in the quality of his 
troops — some of whom indeed had already seen some service, but a consider- 
able portion were raw recruits, but lately arrived at the camp, Washington was 
well aware how great would be the public discouragement, were he, after all 
the efforts made by Congress to organize an army, to retreat without oifering bat- 
tle in defence of Philadelphia. He determined therefore to do so at all events. 

After some preliminary manojuvring, the American army was drawn up on 
the heights above the Brandywine, a small river falling into the Delaware, 
near Wilmington, and which it was necessary that the enemy should pass, to 
continue their march on Philadelphia. The principal passage at Chad's Ford 
was defended by General Wayne, having under him Lincoln's division of 
militia ; and the rest of the army, commanded by Washington in person, ex- 
tended in a line above the river. 

On this occasion, the English general determined to put in practice the 
same rnse which had already been crowned with such signal success at the 
battle in Long Island, and strange to say, although foreseen by the enemy, it 
proved, through accidental circumstances, a second time decisive of victory. 

Accordingly, when advanced within seven miles of the field of battle, 
having divided his army into two columns, he sent forward one, under 
General Knyphausen, by the direct road to Chad's Ford, while the second, led 
by CoruAvallis, and accompanied by himself, made a considerable circuit, for 
the purpose of crossing the river higher up at the Forks, where easily ford- 
able, and turning the right wing of the Americans. Washington, suspecting 
this movement, posted patrols to guard the fords and give notice of the ene- 
my's movements. While anxiously awaiting intelligence, the advanced posts 
of Knyphausen's division approached Chad's Ford, and were immediately at- 
tacked by General Maxwell, with a body of light troops. Though these were 
driven in, and much desultory skirmishing and noisy cannonading took place, 
with a view to distract the attention of the Americans, the German general 
still delayed the passage of the river, till he had ascertained that the other 
party, under Cornwallis, had first. effected it. 

Patrol after patrol came in to Washington, with the most perplexing and 
contradictory statements. At first, they reported that a body of the enemy 
had been seen on their march to the Forks ; and Sullivan, who commanded 
the American right, was ordered to cross the river to intercept them. This 
intelligence was shortly after contradicted, and the movement countermanded. 
At last, about two o'clock, arrived undoubted news, that Cornwallis had 



42-1 THE BATTLE OF THE BRANDYWINE. [1777. 

really crossed at the Forks, and was hastily coming down upon the American 
right flank. Sullivan was now immediately detached to meet him, while 
Greene's division, accompanied by "Washington, took up a central position 
between Chad's Ford, still defended by Maxwell, and the advancing columns 
of Sullivan. 

No sooner had Cornwallis come up with this latter division, which, from 
the hurry occasioned by confused and conflicting accounts, had got but imper- 
fectly into line, than he attacked it with such irresistible impetuosity, that it 
speedily began to give way. Some of the older troops stood their ground 
manfully, till borne down by superior numbers ; but the new levies of militia 
soon broke and fled, in spite of all the efforts of their officers. Among the 
latter, Deborre, an old French general, was wounded in endeavouring to 
rally a brigade of Maryland troops, which proved the first to flinch. Being 
afterwards called to account by Congress, he retorted, that "he had used 
every exertion in his power, and if the Americans would run away, it was 
very hard to hold him accountable for it." The confusion spread along the 
line, which retired before their assailants, still rallying at certain points, and 
covered by Greene's division, which opened its ranks to receive the fugi- 
tives. Meanwhile, being assured by the cannonading that Howe's manoeuvre 
had proved successful, Knyphausen converted his feigned attack into a real 
one, passed the ford, drove in its defenders after a stout resistance, and 
by his advance comjjleted the discomfiture of the Americans. Greene'? 
division still continued to cover the retreat, till darkness overspread the 
scene of conflict, and probably proved the salvation of the fugitive army. 
The British halted upon the field of battle, while the disorganized American 
battalions retreated to Chester, and thence fell back upon Philadelphia. 

This was indeed a severe blow, yet, firm in the moment of peril. Congress 
appeared to be nowise disconcerted, but laboured to put the best face upon 
the business. The victory was represented as being neither important nor 
decisive ; and rewards were distributed to the most deserving officers. Count 
Pulaski, a noble Pole, who had displayed much gallantry at the head of the 
light-horse, was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, and received the 
command of the cavalry. Captain de Flury, who had a horse killed' under 
him, received another. La Fayette, who was disabled by a severe wound, 
came in for his share of applause. On the other hand, a rigid inquiry was 
also instituted into the conduct of Sullivan, who was, however, honourably 
acquitted. Foreseeing the necessity of speedily abandoning Philadelphia, 
Congress also removed the magazines and public stores, but still continued to 
protract their sittings, and maintain their authority to the latest moment. 
Finally — so far from showing any decline of confidence in "Washington, they 
invested him with still more ample authority than before. He was empowered 
to seize upon all provisions needful for the sustenance of his army, paying 
for them in the public certificates ; and even to try by court martial, and im- 
mediately execute, all persons giving any assistance to the British, or furnish- 
ing them with provisions, arms, or stores. A supply of blankets, shoes, and 



i:77.] THE BRITISH. ARMY ENTERS PHILADELPHIA. 425 

clothing, was also required from the citizens of Philadelphia, before that city 
passed into the enemy's hands. These stringent powers, often painful to insist 
upon, were considered to be of inevitable necessity in the face of an advancing 
British army, and with the knowledge of a numerous body of sympathizing 
Tories or hesitating neutrals. 

Neither did Washington, after so painful a reverse, exhibit any diminution 
of his serene self-confidence and persevering steadiness, although the repidse 
at the Brandywine was followed by fi"esh disasters. The very evening after 
the battle, a British party surprised IVI'Kinley, the president of the State, at 
Wilmington, and captured a vessel containing the public records and money. 
A more distressing casualty was the surprise of General Wayne, who had 
concealed his party in the woods, with a view of harassing the British rear ; 
this design being discovered by a Tory spy, Major-General Gray was despatched 
to cut him off, and making his way through the woods with silence and celer- 
ity, fell suddenly upon his camp with fixed bayonets, and, with the loss of only 
eight men, killed, wounded, or captured three hundred of the Americans. 

As soon as the remains of the army were refreshed and reorganized, A\^ash- 
ington marched out of Philadelphia, and encountering the advancing British, 
about twenty miles distant from the city, prepared to offer them battle for 
the second time. The outposts begun the engagement, when a violent storm 
of rain came on, which lasted a whole day and night, and prevented the con- 
tinuance of the conflict. He made another unfavourable attempt to stop the 
onward progress of the British army, who, having crossed the Schuylkill, 
divided into two bodies, Howe himself encamping with the main body at 
Germantown, while Cornwallis with a strong detachment entered Philadel- 
phia in triumph, where he was warmly received by the numerous partisans of 
the royal cause. On his approach. Congress retired into the interior of Penn- 
sylvania, first to Lancaster, and afterwards to Yorktown, Avhere they remained 
until the evacuation of Philadelphia by the royal army. In this position let 
us leave Washington and his adversaries for the present. 

Among those acts, dictated by dire necessity, which particularly tended to 
exasperate the feelings of the republicans, was the system of pillage carried 
on for the supply of the royal forces. We have already noticed the destruc- 
tion of Bristol, in Narragansett Bay, by Admiral AV^allace, on account of the 
inhabitants refusing to comply with his requisiticns. That officer continued in 
Newport harbour levying contributions on the neighbourhood, until at length 
expelled by some batteries erected for that purpose. Other English cruisers 
came in from time to time with their prizes, but were compelled to retire into 
the open sea. From an early period in the war, the fitting out of priva- 
teers was actively carried on both here and in the other New England 
ports. These vessels occasioned such immense injury to English com 
merce that the rate of marine insurance rose enormously. They waylaid 
richly laden ships coming from the West Indies, and even ventured to infest 
the British coast ; carrying their prizes into the ports of Spain and Holland, 
and especially of France, where they found a welcome market. The losses 

3 X 



426 TYEA NA'Y OF GENERAL PRESCOTT IN NE WPORT. [1777. 

sustained by the British mercliants in 1775 and 1776, were estimated at 
about a million sterling. The British reciprocated by inflicting all the injury 
in their power upon American commerce, which, removed from the restric- 
tions under which it formerly laboured, had now largely extended its field 
of operations. 

After the departure of the English ships, Ehode Island remained unmo- 
lested, until, on the 26th of December, the very same day when AYashington 
surprised the Hessians at Trenton, the English fleet under Sir Peter Parker, 
having on board the troops returning from the unsuccessful attack upon 
Charleston, made their ajjpearance in Newport harbour. Two American 
frigates, and several privateers, narrowly succeeded in effecting their escape. 
The troops were unceremoniously quartered on the inhabitants, until Sir 
Henry Clinton marched with the greater part of them to New York, leaving 
the remainder under the command of General Prescott. 

The occupation of a hostile country, and the necessity of quartering troops 
and enforcing supplies from a reluctant people, always painful to an ofhcer 
imbued with generous sentiments, ought, one would think, in this case to 
have been rendered still more so by the consideration, that both parties were 
of the same blood and religion. But regarding the citizens as rebels, more- 
over being naturally harsh, imperious, and unfeeling, General Prescott took 
advantage of their defenceless situation to inflict on them all sorts of petty 
tyranny. He would stop them in the streets, and command them to take off 
their hats, menacing and even striking them if they refused to do so. He 
threw men into prison upon mere suspicion, and treated their relatives with 
insult and cruelty. The inhabitants, groaning under the yoke of Prescott, at 
length determined to get rid of him. Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, embarking 
from Providence, with a few stanch confederates, in four whale boats, passed 
with muffled oars through the midst of some British ships, lying off the de- 
tached house in which Prescott was quartered, surprised the lieutenant, and 
made their way to the sleeping-room of the general. The door was locked, 
but a powerful negro who was with the party, making use of his head as a 
battering-ram, dashed it in at a single blow. The general was then seized, un- 
dressed as he was, swaddled in a cloak, and marched down to the boats, which 
reached the shores unchallenged with the prisoner. Prescott was ke]3t in 
confinement till the following April, when he was exchanged for General 
Lee. He was afterwards restored to his command, and amply avenged him- 
self for his mortification by fresh acts of rapine and incendiarism. 

In the preceding August, during the absence of the main British army 
under Howe, General Sullivan made a sudden descent upon Staten Island, 
surprised two loyalist regiments, and carried off several papers of importance. 
These being communicated to Congress, led to the arrest of several of the lead- 
ing Quakers, who, with John Penn, the late governor, the same who had given 
testimony against the Stamp Act in parliament, and others who had conscien- 
tiously refused to swear allegiance to the new State government of Pennsyl- 
vania, were now subjected to confinement as a matter of political necessity. 



1777.] EXPEDITION TO ISOLATE NEW ENGLAND. 427 

We must now turn to the north, and narrate the progress and issue ot that 
expedition under Burgoyne to which allusion has more than once been made. 
The fruitless efforts that Carleton had made in the preceding autumn to re- 
duce Ticonderoga, and the concentration of the American troops at that fort, 
have been already narrated. Not apprehending further attack in that 
direction, a portion of these regiments had been withdrawn to the assist- 
ance of Washington, and thus a comparatively small body were in gar- 
rison at Ticonderoga, when it was menaced with a sudden and formidable 
attack. 

During the progress of hostilities, it had been a favourite j)lan with the 
British ministry to cut off the New England States from correspondence 
with the central and southern, and thus, by preventing a free communication, 
sever as it were the link that bound together the rebellious and hydra-headed 
confederacy. In order to effect this, a large force Avas to be sent by way of 
the St. Lawrence and the lakes, which, after reducing Ticonderoga, was to 
cross the few miles of forest intervening between that fort and the Hudson, 
and take possession of Albany; while another body, ascending the river, and 
reducing the fortresses on the Highlands, would effect a junction with the 
first. This plan seemed the more plausible, inasmuch as it required no exten- 
sive march through the interior, but, except a short interval of fifteen miles, 
could be executed on both sides by water carriage alone. It had been par- 
ticularly pressed upon the attention of ministers by Lieutenant- General 
Burgoyne, whose knowledge of the country, and above all the importunity 
with Avhich he besieged his patrons, at length procured him the desired ap- 
jpointment. Burgoyne was a natural son of Lord Bingley, and had at an early 
period of his life been devoted to a military career, and honourably distin- 
guished himself in foreign service. He had obtained the rank of brigadier- 
general, had served in parliament, and become a privy councillor. He had 
witnessed, though without sharing, the battle of Bunker Hill, and after 
taking a prominent share in the expulsion of the Americans from Canada, 
returned to London to carry out his plans for promotion. Of his skill and 
courage there was ample evidence, and animated as he was by an ardent de- 
sire of success in this enterprise, the ministers thought that 'its command 
could not be intrusted to better hands. Sir Guy Carleton, indeed, as having 
displayed consummate conduct and prudence in the government of Canada, 
possessing a thorough knowledge of the Canadians and Indians, and enjoying 
a high reputation for magnanimity of character among the Americans them- 
selves, might perhaps have been more fitted in many respects than Burgoyne, 
had merit and fitness alone influenced the decision of ministers ; but then 
Carleton and his claims were at a distance, while Burgoyne and his impor- 
tunity were on the spot. He succeeded in his designs, however, only to 
prove more painfully the inconstancy of fortune, and the danger of indulging 
in that 

" Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself^ 
And falls on the other side." 

3 I 2 



423 B URGOYNE ENGA GES THE HELP OF THE INDIANS. [1777. 

Early in May Burgoyne reached Quebec, where he devoted himself with 
intense activity to the completion of his preparations, a task in which lie was 
warmly seconded by the generous Carleton, though the latter, finding himself 
by this new appointment now reduced to a mere civil functionary, felt called 
upon to resign his government. The regular troops destined for this expedi- 
tion consisted of about eight thousand men, including a body of rangers under 
Colonel St. Leger, destined for a separate expedition against Fort Stanwix, or 
Schuyler, in the Mohawk country. Burgoyne was admirably seconded by 
several able officers, both English and German, particularly Generals Eraser, 
Phillips, Powell, Hamilton, Major-General Baron Eeidesel, and Brigadier- 
General Specht. A large body of Canadian auxiliaries to act as pioneers and 
scouts was also attached to the service of the army. 

The policy of also engaging the Indians as allies had by this time become 
riither questionable, their actual services being outweighed by the trouble 
they occasioned, while the cruelties they perpetrated upon their captives had 
reflected disgrace, often undeserved indeed, against their European or Ame- 
rican leaders. Indignant remonstrance had been made in England against 
the emi^loyment of these ferocious auxiliaries, but upon the plea, that unless 
employed in the royal cause they, would be engaged by the Americans, the 
ministers had insisted upon it, though Carleton, and even Burgoyne himself, 
both of them men of humane dispositions, were strongly opposed to the mea- 
sure. As, however, the ministerial orders were positive, Carleton exerted 
his powerful influence, and a considerable body of Indian warriors were soon 
prevailed upon to embrace the royal cause. 

At length, every thing being ready, this fine army, so well officered, and 
for its numbers unequalled in appointments and artillery, ascended Lake 
Champlain towards Ticonderoga. At the falls of the Bouquet, a short distance 
from its shores, four hundred Indians, of the Algonquin, Ottawa, and Iro- 
quois tribes, accompanied by a Roman Catholic priest, were assembled to 
join the troops. Here Burgoyne encamped and gave them a war feast, and 
afterwards addressed the plumed chieftains in a speech, vainly intended at 
once to excite their military ardour and to restrain their savage cruelties. 
" Go forth," he said, " in the might of your valour, strike at the common 
enemies of Great Britain and America, disturbers of public order, peace, and 
happiness, destroyers of commerce, parricides of the state." He praised their 
perseverance and constancy, and patient endurance of privation, and artfully 
flattered them by saying, that in these respects they oflered a model of imita- 
tion for his army. He then entreated of them, as the king's allies, to regu- 
late their own mode of warfare by that prescribed to their civilized brethren. 
" I positively forbid," he energetically said to them, " all bloodshed when 
you are not opposed in arms. Aged men, women, and children, nuist be 
held sacred from the knife and hatchet even in the time of actual conflict. 
You shall receive compensation for the prisoners you take, but you shall be 
called to account for scalps. In conformity and indulgence to your customs, 
which have affixed an idea of honour to such badges of victory, you shall be 



rm.]BURGOYNE'S PR0CLA2IATI0N TO THE AMERICANS. 429 

allowed to take the scalps of the dead when killed by your fire and in fair 
opposition, but on no account, or pretence, or subtlety, or prevarication, are 
they to be taken from the wounded or even the dying, and still less pardon- 
able, if possible, will it be held to kill men in that condition on purpose, and 
upon a supposition that tliis protection to the wounded would thereby be 
evaded." The warriors listened in respectful silence, and an old Iroquois 
chieftain gravely arose. " I stand up," he said, " in the name of all the 
tribes present, to assure our father that we have attentively listened to his 
discourse. We receive you as our father, because when you speak we hear 
the voice of our great father beyond the great lake. In proof of the sin- 
cerity of our professions, our whole villages able to go to war are come forth. 
The old and infirm, our infants and wives, alone remain at home. With one 
common assent we j)romise a constant obedience to all you have ordered and 
shall order, and may the Father of Days give you success." Such were the 
promises of the Indians, but those who knew their nature might have seen 
how little reliance was to be placed upon them. The thirst of gold, and the 
thirst of blood, were the real motives that drew them forth from their forests ; 
when the former could no longer be gratified, their fidelity was at an end, 
and no human power could prevent them from the indulgence of the latter. 

A\1iile Burgoyne, on one hand, was engaged in this vain, though honour- 
able endeavour, he issued a proclamation to the " rebels," couched in the 
most bombastic and grandiloquent terms. He recapitulated their various 
crimes, reminded them of their oppressive treatment of the Tories, who, on 
account of their adherence to their principles, had been thrown into prison 
and deprived of their property, or forced to purchase tranquillity by taking 
oaths against which their consciences secretly revolted. He had come, he 
said, armed with irresistible power, to put down such outrages ; and while he 
promised protection to those who remained quiet, and payment to such as 
brought in supplies, he menaced all such as should be found daring enough 
to resist the terror of his arms, with penalties the most tremendous, especially 
with the bloody licence of those very savages he had so lately endeavoured 
to restrain. In this ill-judged manifesto, dictated no doubt by policy, Bur- 
goyne displayed consummate ignorance of the American, and especially the 
New England, character — far more likely to be nerved into increased hardihood 
and daring opposition, than terrified by such inhuman menaces. Accord- 
ingly, they hurled defiance in his teeth, and treated his vauiating proclamation 
with the most cutting sarcasm. Neither was it much better treated in 
England; it met with animadversion in parliament, became the subject of 
satirical parody, while its unlucky author received, in certain circles, the 
nickname of " General Swa^csrer." 

Having put forth this manifesto, Burgoyne advanced to Crown Point, the 
defenders of which retired to Ticonderoga. The British army, advancing up 
Lake Champ] ain in three divisions, one on each shore, and the other by 
water, was soon before the walls of that foitress, which suggested the dis- 
astrous recollection of the ill-fated attack of Abercrombie, in which so many 



430 DEFENCE OF TICONDEROGA. [1777. 

of their gallant countrymen had fruitlessly perished. The ships were an- 
chored out of gun-shot from the works, while the land defences were closely 
invested on every side. 

As Burgoyne's plans had been so lately developed, and great exertions had 
been required to oppose General Howe in New Jersey, little attention, com- 
paratively, had been paid to the northern army, or to the defence of Ticon- 
deroga. General Schuyler, who, as before said, had been superseded by 
Gates, had been restored to his original appointment, and taken very much at 
a disadvantage, found himself almost unable to bring forward a force equal 
to stay the progress of his formidable adversary. General St. Clair, an 
officer of Scottish birth, who had served under Wolfe, and embraced the 
cause of the Americans, was then within the walls of Ticonderoga, with a 
body of only two thousand men. The New England militia had been hastily 
summoned to the rCscue, and the garrison might have been considerably 
increased, but for the deficiency of necessary stores. Perhaps, in a military 
point of view, it would have been wiser to have abandoned it altogether, but 
for the discouragement which such a measure would have produced on the 
public mind. 

The position of Ticonderoga, naturally strong both by land and water, 
had been carefully increased by art. Besides the principal fort, on the point 
of land commanding, on one hand, the narrow outlet, which, running up to 
Skenesborough, now IVliitehall, forms the termination of Lake Champlain ; 
and on the other, the narrow space intervening between this body of Avater 
and Lake George ; there was also another, occupying a still stronger position, 
on a neighbouring eminence, called Mount Independence. These Avorks, 
however, Avere still overlooked by loftier elevations, rugged and abrupt in 
outline, and covered Avith unbroken forests. One of these, in particular, so 
obAaously commanded the fort, that it had been proposed by the besiegers to 
occupy it ; but the garrison Avas already too small to man the extensive lines, 
and all that St. Clair could do, was to hope that the difficulties of the ascent 
might deter the British commander from attempting to seize it ; and that he 
would prefer to attack the fort in front, Avhere St. Clair Avould be enabled to 
offer a more successful resistance. 

But, on the morning of the 5th of July, as the rising sun lighted up 
the Avooded summits of the mountains, the scarlet regimentals of the royal 
troops Avere suddenly descried by the astounded garrison upon the summit 
of the peak above ; and further examination disclosed a train of artillery, 
ready to open upon the Avorks, Avhich the British so completely commanded, 
that not a single movement of the defenders could escape their prying scru- 
tiny. The mountain had been reconnoitred by Lieutenant TavIss, the chief 
engineer, and under his direction, by the indefatigable labour of the troops, 
a road had been cut through the forests in a fcAV hours, and a battery 
established, ready to thunder destruction on the fort. To this hill, whence 
they equally defied the Americans to dislodge them, or to evade their own 
attack, the English gave the name of "Mount Defiance;" while another 



1777.] RETREAT OF THE AMERICANS. 431 

vantage ground, upon wliicli General Eraser had established his corps, re- 
ceived the appellation of " Mount Hope." 

At this alarming crisis, with the momentary expectation of attack, General 
St. Clair called a council of war, at which it was agreed, as the only means of 
saving the army, to evacuate the fort as soon as nightfall should enable them 
to do so unperceived. This resolution was concealed from the troops until 
the moment for action should arrive. 

At length, when the twilight had sufficiently closed in, the order was given 
to load two hundred batteaux, in which, covered by a convoy of five armed 
galleys, with the munitions and stores, thus to be conveyed up the narroAV arm 
of the lake to Skenesborough, while the main body of the troops marched to 
the same spot by Castleton. A strong boom and bridge crossed this outlet of 
the lake to Fort Independence, which was in the command of the Americans, 
and thus they anticipated an undisturbed retreat by Avatcr. Every precaution 
was taken to conceal their movements, not a light was shown, and a cannon- 
ade was artfully kept up in the direction of Eraser's encampment. Although 
it was a moonlight night, the distance of the objects and the absence of fires 
prevented the movements of the Americans from being perceived ; and after 
much unavoidable delay and confusion, about three in the morning, St. Clair 
and the garrison filed out of the gates of Ticondcroga, and crossing the bridge 
unnoticed, conducted their steps to Hubbardton, flattering themselves that 
before morning dawned they should have stolen nearly a day's march on the 
unconscious enemy. 

At this moment, when all their operations seemed likely to be crowned with 
success, a sudden conflagration, kindled either by accident, or through the 
obstinacy of the commandant, burst forth on Mount Independence, and cast- 
ing its fiery glare over the lake, the fort, and the moantains, aroused the whole 
British camp, revealing at a glance all that was on foot, and striking confusion 
into the ranks of the fugitive republicans. Panic-stricken, they hastily continued 
their retreat to Hubbardton, whence the main body, under St. Clair, pushed 
forward for Castleton. The rear, under Colonel Warner, covering the re- 
treat, and giving time for any stragglers to come up, continued their hasty 
advance during the whole day, closely pursued by Eraser, who, at the 
first discovery of their escape, had hurried after them, General Reidesel and 
Colonel Breyman with the Germans bringing up the rear of the pursuit. 
Burgoyne himself, on board one of the vessels, was eager to follow and cap- 
ture the retreating batteaux, but was delayed for some hours, until, by the 
extraordinary efforts of the seamen and sappers, a passage was at length forced 
through the bridge and boom, Avhen his flotilla passed through in full chase 
of the heavy-laden boats, upon which they rapidly gained ground. At the 
same time a body of troops was landed, in order, by a shorter passage, to de- 
stroy the enemy's works at Skenesborough, and prevent their escape. About 
three the British vessels came up with the American barges, captured some, 
and burned others, while, to prevent the rest from being of any service to their 
enemies, the Americans set them all on fire, and fell back upon Eort Anne, 



432 CONTINUED SUCCESS OF BURGOTNE. [I777. 

fiirtlier up the outlet, -where Schuyler was concentrating such militia as he 
could muster to oppose to the advancing British. 

Meanwhile the latter, vigorously keeping up the pursuit, about five on 
the morning of the seventh overtook the American rear-guard, who, in op- 
position to St. Clair's orders, had lingered behind and posted themselves on 
strong ground in the vicinity of Hubbardton. Fraser's troops were little more 
than half the number opposed to him, but aware that Reidesel was close 
behind, and fearful lest his chase should give him the slip, he ordered an im- 
mediate attack. Warner opposed a vigorous resistance, but a lai-ge body of 
his militia retreated, and left him to sustain the combat alone, Avhen the firing 
of Kcidesel's advanced guard was heard, and shortly after his whole force, 
drums beating and colours flying, emerged from the shades of the forest ; and 
part of his troops immediately effected a junction Avith the British line. Fraser 
now gave ord-^rs for a simultaneous advance with the bayonet, which was 
effected with such resistless impetuosity that the Americans broke and fled, 
sustaining a very serious loss. St. Clair, upon hearing the firing, endeavoured 
to send back some assistance, but the discouraged militia refused to return, 
and the American general had no alternative but to collect the wrecks of his 
army, and proceed to Fort Edward to effect a junction with Schuyler. 

Burgoyne lost not a moment in folloAving up his success at Skenesborough, 
but despatched a regiment to effect the capture of Fort Anne, defended by a 
small party under the command of Colonel Long. This officer judiciously 
posted his troops in a narrow ravine through which his assailants were com- 
pelled to pass, and opened upon them so severe a fire in front, flank, and rear, 
that the British regiments, nearly surrounded, with difficulty escaped to a 
neighbouring hill, where the Americans attacked them ancAV with such vigour 
that they must have been utterly defeated, had not the ammunition of the 
assailants given out at this critical moment. No longer being able to fight, 
Long's troops fell back, and setting the fort on fire, also directed their retreat 
to the head-quarters at Fort Edward. 

Thus far the progress of Burgoyne had been extraordinary, no campaign 
was ever opened in a more dashing, brilliant, and successful style. In a few 
days^ and with hardly any loss, he had compelled his adversary to evacu- 
ate Ticondcroga, had captured upAvards of a hundred pieces of artillery, de- 
stroyed great part of his pro\asions and stores, routed the rear of his flying 
army, driven the feeble remainder before him, dispirited and almost starving, 
and struck terror into the whole surrounding region. Had he been able in- 
stantly to press forward across the sixteen miles of forest that intervened be- 
tween Skenesborough and the Hudson, before the panic had subsided, or 
Schuyler had found time to interpose any obstacles to his advance, or any 
assistance could have been sent by Congress, he would have entirely succeed- 
ed in the object of his expedition. But he was detained some time waiting 
for his baggcige, and that time Avas turned to momentous account by Schuyler. 

That officer, and General St. Clair, when the ucaa's of these disastrous 
events reached Congress, were overwhelmed with unmerited reproaches. In- 



1777.] SCHUYLER'S CONDUCT BLA3IED BY COXGRESS. 433 

stead of attributing the misfortune to the deficiency of men and supplif^s, it 
"was at once assumed that nothing but the total "vvant of military conduct, and 
perhaps treachery into the bargain, could possibly have occasioned it. 
" We shall never be able to defend a post," privately wrote John Adams, 
now President of the Board of War, " till we shoot a general," — a most unge- 
nerous hint. Even "Washington himself, temperate and candid in his judg- 
ment, was so painfully affected, that he confessed himself at a loss to compre- 
liend how such misfortunes could have happened. But he overruled a hasty 
resolution of Congress, who talked of recalling the northern officers, and in- 
stituting an inquiry into their conduct. Schuyler therefore, happily for 
his country, was allowed to continue in her service, but through the influence 
of the NeAv England members in Congress Gates was a second time promoted 
to the chief command. Washington, who had declined personally to disj^lace 
Schuyler, suggested that Arnold should also be sent to the scene of action, in 
the hope that his sanguine temper and daring courage might reanimate the 
dispirited army. Two brigades were also despatched from the Highlands, 
and General Lincoln, a great favourite with the New Englanders, whose pre- 
judices against Schuyler were inveterate, was sent to assume their command. 

While thus exposed to detraction and suspected of treachery, that officer, 
whose magnanimity of character, akin to Washington's, was proof against all 
attack, was using every means to counteract the influence of Burgoyne, 
and to impede his further advance. The English general, taking advantage 
of the triumph of his arms, had issued another manifesto, calling upon the 
Americans to return to their allegiance. Schuyler retorted by a spirited 
counter-proclamation. But, aware that the great object was to gain time un- 
til assistance could arrive, he laboured incessantly to render the short interval 
betwixt himself and his adversary all but impassable. He declared his in- 
tention " to dispute every inch of ground with General Burgoyne, and retard 
his descent into the country as long as possible." With this view, extra- 
ordinary pains were taken to sink obstructions in Wood Creek, up which 
stream the English batteau.x must pass to convey provisions toAvards the 
Hudson. But his principal efforts were directed to blockading the road, 
a single line of cutting through a region of unbroken forest. He destroyed 
upwards of fifty bridges over the torrents and swamps, with which it was 
provided. Where it was so hemmed in by natural obstacles, that no side 
passage was practicable, he caused huge trees to be felled and thrown across 
it with their branches interlocking, which must be removed with infinite toil 
and difficulty before the enemy could effect a passage. All the cattle was 
driven off from the vicinity of the route. 

To one who attentively looks into the details of the war, these ijnpediments 
thrown into the way of Burgoyne, will appear to be at the root of all his sub- 
sequent difficulties, and Schuyler may thus fairly take the credit of having 
paved the way for the success of Gates. Burgoyne has been blamed for the 
slowness of his movements, but in the present instance it Avas evidently com- 
pulsory. He was afterwards criticised for not having at this junction, instead 

3 K 



434 SCHUYLER RETIRES TO COHOES FALLS [1777. 

of consuming much time by forcing his way from Skenesborough to Fort 
Edward J retraced his steps by water to Ticonderoga and up Lake George, 
and from thence directed his march upon the Hudson. He appears to have 
well justified himself, by contending that a movement apparently retrograde 
would have had the worst moral effect in the height of success ; and, more- 
over, that the Americans would not have failed to have opposed him on that 
route also, whereas by his present movement they had been compelled to 
give up Fort George and to leave the road open to his supplies. 

However this may be, the progress of his army, from Skenesborough to 
the Hudson, was excessively slow and toilsome. The soldiers, heavily laden 
as they were, had to clear the encumbered road and to rebuild the bridges ; 
a mile a day was as much as they could accomplish with their utmost efforts. 
It was not till the end of July that they emerged from the forests, and, 
with transports of delight, saw before them the beautiful river Hudson, the 
term, as they fondly supposed, of all their anxieties, and which they had 
nothing to do but to descend, driving the Americans before them, till Albany 
fell into their hands ; and by effecting a junction with Clinton, accomplish 
the objects of the expedition. 

As the British army advanced, increased by accessions from the Tories, 
who counted upon a signal triumph, the terrified inhabitants abandoned their 
comfortable homesteads and waving harvests, now ripe for the sickle, and 
fled from the path of the invader. Fort Edward being untenable, Schuyler, 
on the ajoproach of his enemy, evacuated it, and retired down the Hudson 
as far as Cohoes Falls, at its junction with the Mohawk, where he fortified 
Bome islands, and in this strong position, with his head-quarters at Still- 
water, awaited the arrival of Burgoyne. In the mean time, he used the 
most indefatigable exertion to induce the neighbouring militia to repair to 
his assistance ; his wealth and private influence contributed to his success, 
and matters around him were beginning to assume a hopeful aspect, when 
there arrived the news of fresh misfortunes. 

There was a small fort, named after himself. Fort Schuyler, upon the 
Upper Mohawk, a military out-post in this direction, and commanding the 
whole valley of the river, down to its junction with the Hudson. This dis- 
trict, called Try on county, was the same formerly occupied by the famous 
Sir William Johnson, already mentioned ; and when the revolution broke out, 
his nephew, Guy Johnson, a stanch royalist, was still the most influential 
person in the neighbourhood. A Mohawk sachem, called Brant, was the 
fast friend and ally of Johnson. By the eventual predominance of the repub- 
lican influence, Johnson was at length obliged to fly, with a large body of his 
partisans, to Canada, where his men were formed into a regiment, called the 
*' Johnson Greens," and destined by Burgoyne, in concert with a company 
of English troops, and a body of Indian allies, under Brant, to effect the re- 
duction of Fort Schuyler, garrisoned at that time by seven hundred men, 
irnder Colonel Gansevoort, including a regiment commanded by Colonel 
"VVillett. The command of this expedition was given to Lieutenant-Colonel 



1777.] ST. LEGER BESIEGES FORT SCHUYLER. 435 

St. Leger, who after reducing the place, and thereby exciting a Tory 
insurrcccionj was to descend the valley, and effect a junction with Bur- 
goyne. 

As soon as the English had invested the fort. General Herkimer assem- 
bled the republican militia, and proceeded to the relief of the garrison, who 
were at the same time directed to make a sortie and throw the besiegers 
into confusion, of which movement notice was to be given by a signal gun. 
Herkimer, not having heard the signal, and aware that the enem.y were 
in force, was unwilling to precipitate his march; but the militia, eager 
to press forward, began to reproach their leader with cowardice, and to 
insinuate that he was also a Tory. Stung with these reproaches, and warn- 
ing them that those who were now most eager to fight, would be the first 
to run away, he gave the word to advance. He had not proceeded far 
before, in passing a hollow ravine near Oriskany, his men fell into an am- 
buscade, consisting of Brant's Indians and the Johnson Greens, placed there 
by St. Leger, for the purpose of cutting him off. The vanguard, as had 
been prophesied, turned and fled, but the brave Herkimer continued to main- 
tain a desperate resistance, until he was mortally Avounded and carried off the 
field. The encounter, which proved to be peculiarly ferocious and san- 
guinary, was suspended a while by a tremendous storm ; this had no sooner 
cleared off, than the signal gun was heard, giving notice of the sortie by 
Willett, which proved entirely successful. The combat now raged afresh, 
imtil the Tories fled the field ; but the republicans had suffered too severely 
to realize the original design of forcing their way through the lines, and re- 
lieving the garrison. 

St. Leger, now confident of success, sent a messenger to Burgoyne, inform- 
inof him that the fort could not hold out much longer. He issued a sum- 
mons to surrender, in the same pompous style as Burgoyne's proclamation, 
with precisely similar results. An officer was then sent with a flag, and blind- 
folded, through the works, and introduced, in a lighted apartment, into the 
presence of Gansevoort and Willett, with other officers. He assured them 
that Albany was already in the hands of the English, that the fort must ine- 
vitably be taken, and hinted that he already found it very difficult to restrain 
the savage ferocity of the Indians. Willett, with the sanction of his superior, 
replied with spirit, " You come from a British colonel to the commander of 
the garrison, to tell him that if he does not deliver it up into the hands Oi 
your colonel, he will send his Indians to murder our women and children. 
You will please to reflect, sir, that their blood mil be upon your heads, not 
upon ours. We are doing our duty, this garrison is committed to our charge, 
and we will take care of it. After you get out of this, you may turn round 
and look at its outside, but never expect to get in again until you come a 
prisoner. I consider the message you have brought a degrading one for a 
British officer to send, and by no means reputable for a British officer to 
carry." Thus foiled, St. Leger sent a formal summons to surrender, which 
Gansevoort met with a peremptory refusal. As no direct impression could 

3 K 2 



436 HON YOST SCHUYLER DECEIVES THE ENGLISH. [1777. 

be made upon the fort, the besiegers were obliged to approach by sap— a pro- 
cess necessarily tedious. 

It was now of the last necessity to communicate their situation to Schuyler. 
Colonel Willett, accompanied by Lieutenant Stockwell, taking advantage of a 
dark and stormy night, stole out of the fort on their hands and knees, crossed 
the river, and eluding the patrols of the British, and the still more dangerous 
vicinity of the Indians at length reached the American camp in safety, and 
disclosed the perilous situation of the besieged. 

Schuyler, aware of the vast importance of maintaining this post, declared his 
intention of sending off reinforcements, but what was his chagrin at hearing 
it whispered among his officers, that he intended, no doubt with treacherous 
views, to weaken the army, then almost in presence of that of Burgoyne. 
Suppressing with difficulty his indignation, he asked which of the generals 
v."ould undertake the task of relieving the fort, and Arnold immediately pre- 
sented himself. But that officer, fearing that the force which Schuyler would 
venture to detach was insufficient, determined to resort to stratagem. Among 
the Tory prisoners was one Hon Yost Schuyler, who had been condemned to 
death, but whom Arnold agreed to spare on consideration of his implicitly 
carrying out his plan. Accordingly, Hon Yost, having made several holes in 
his coat to imitate bullet-shots, rushed breatliless among the Indian allies of 
St. Leger, and informed them that he had just escaped in a battle with the 
Americans, who were advancing on them with the utmost celerity. While 
pointing to his gaberdine for proof of his statement, a Sachem, also in the plot, 
came in and confirmed the intelligence. The Indians, already disgusted and 
discontented with the slow progress of the siege, prepared for flight, nor could 
all the entreaties of St. Leger prevail on them to delay an instant. Thus, aban- 
doned by his allies, and Avith a mere handful of men, the English colonel was 
himself obliged to fly, amidst a scene of recrimination and panic. The road 
was almost impassable, all order was at an end, and the Indians indemnified 
themselves for their disgust by killing and plundering the stragglers, and it 
was with infinite difficulty that the remainder succeeded in regaining Canada. 
Thus, by this extraordinary " ruse " of Arnold's, the affiiir, at first so pro- 
mising to the English, took at last a totally diflerent turn. 

Hitherto, notwithstanding the delay to which he had been subjected, the 
progress of Burgoyne to the Hudson had been uninterruptedly fortunate, 
but now the scene was suddenly reversed. The loss of time had entailed a 
proportionable consumption of provisions ; none could be drawn from the 
surrounding country, and he was obliged to obtain the whole of his stores 
from Lake George. The distance was short, but the road was abominable, 
and with the utmost efforts that could be made, it was now nearly the middle 
of August, and the army had but four days' provisions in advance. This de- 
lay, which was becoming intolerable, induced him, contrary to the advice of 
his most experienced officers, to attempt a coup de main, the failure of which 
proved the turning point of his fortunes, and gave a disastrous character to 
the rest of the campaign. 



1?77.] STARE RETURNS TO HIS COMMAND. 437 

At Bennington, a village about twenty miles from the Hudson, the Ameri- 
cans had collected a great quantity of provisions, cattle, and horses, the cap- 
ture of which would not only be of the greatest service to his army, but prove 
equally disastrous to the enemy. Skene, a leading Tory, then in Burgoyne's 
camp, with a considerable number of his confederates, asserted that the 
neighboui'hood abounded in loyalists, who, five to one of the republicans, 
would not fail to flock to his standard, and do all in their power to in- 
sure the success of the enterprise. Burgoyne, therefore, detached Colonel 
Baum, an able and experienced officer, with eight hundred of General Ecid- 
esel's dragoons on foot, a body of Canadian and Indian allies, and finally, 
Skene and his loyalists, to effect this important service. He was instructed 
to mount the dragoons, try the affections of the country, complete the corps of 
loyalists, and send back large supplies of cattle, horses, and carriages. He 
M^as then to scour the country, terrify the enemy, and finally effect a junction 
with the main army at Albany, where Burgoyne confidently declared he ex- 
pected to eat his Christmas dinner. 

Meanwhile, the eastern States had begun to recover from the panic in 
which they were thrown at first by the successes of the royal army, and had 
taken vigorous measures to oppose its further progress. Langdon, speaker 
of the New Hampshire assembly, in particular, had animated the spirits of his 
fellow-citizens by a noble display of patriotism. " I have," he said, " three 
thousand dollars in hard money ; I will pledge my plate for three thousand 
more. I have seventy hogsheads of Tobago rum, Avhich shall be sold for the 
most it will bring. These are at the service of the State. If we succeed 
in defending our fire-sides and homes I may be remunerated ; if we do not, 
the property will be of no value to me. Our old friend Stark, who so 
nobly sustained the honour of our State at .Bunker Hill, may be safely 
intrusted with the conduct of the enterprise." This officer, disgusted with 
being superseded by juniors, had left the service of Congress; — at the com- 
mand of his native State, he now returned to it, invested however with an 
independent command. On repairing to Manchester, twenty miles north of 
Bennington, where Colonel Warner was then recruiting the regiments that 
had been worsted in the battle of Hubbardton, Stark fell in with General 
Lincoln, who ordered him to join Schuyler, which however he flatly refused 
to do. No doubt he thus rendered himself guilty of a breach of discipline, 
which reported to Congress, elicited an expression of their disj^leasure ; but 
before it could arrive. Stark, by his fortunate insubordination, converted 
it into a vote of thanks. 

On the loth of August Baum left the British camp, and on the same day 
Stark arrived at Bennington. The progress of the German troops, at first 
tolerably prosperous, was soon impeded by the state of the roads and the 
weather, and as soon as Stark heard of their approach he hurried off" expresses 
to Warner to join him, who set off" in the course of the night. After send- 
ing forward Colonel Gregg to reconnoitre the enemy, he advanced to the 
rencontre of Baum, who finding the country thus rising around him, halted 



438 SUCCESS OF THE AMERICANS AT BENNINGTON. [1777. 

and intrenched liimself in a strong position above the "VValloomscoik river, and 
sent off. an express to Burgoyne, who instantly despatched Lieutenant-Colonel 
Brcyman with a strong reinforcement. 

Daring the fifteenth, the rain prevented any serious movement. The Ger- 
mans and English continued to labour at their intrenchments, upon which 
they had mounted two pieces of artillery. The following day was bright and 
sunny, and early in the morning Stark sent forward two columns to storm 
the intrenchments at different points, and when the firing had commenced, 
threw himself on horseback and advanced with the rest of his troops. As 
soon as the enemy's columns were seen forming on the hill-side, he ex- 
claimed, " See, men ! there are the red-coats ; we beat to-day, or Sally 
Stark's a widow." The militia replied to this appeal by a tremendous 
shout; and, in fine, such was the vigour with which the dragoons, soon 
left to stand the brunt of the encounter, were attacked, that after two hours* 
desperate struggle with a superior force, during which the firing, as Stark 
said, " was one continued clap of thunder," they abandoned their intrench- 
ments and fled in disorder towards the river Hudson. 

The sound of musketry struck upon the ears of Breyman and his division, 
who hurried forward to the assistance of their countrymen. An hour or two 
earlier, and they might have given a different turn to the affair, but the heavy 
rain had delayed their progress. They met and rallied the fugitives, and re- 
turned to the field of battle. Stark's troops, who were engaged in plunder, 
were taken by surprise, and the victory might after all have been wrested 
from their grasp, but for the opportune arrival of Warner's division at the 
critical moment. The Germans, overwhelmed with numbers, at length aban- 
doned their baggage and fled. Colonel Baum, their brave commander, was 
killed. Nearly nine hundred and fifty, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, were 
lost to the British army by this untoward reverse. 

On this occasion the militia behaved with extraordinary spirit, displaying 
the same courage and determination in attacking a post as at Bunker Hill 
they had evinced in defending one. The patriotic devotion manifested by 
the people, was unsurpassed by the brightest examples of antiquity. One old 
man had five sons in the engagement, and on being told that one of them 
was unfortunate, exclaimed, " What ! has he misbehaved ? Did he desert his 
post or shrink from the charge ? " " Worse than that," replied his informant. 
" He was slain, but he was fighting nobly." " Then I am satisfied," said the 
old man, '^ bring him to me." AVhen the body of his son was brought in, the 
aged father wiped the blood from the wound, and said, M'hile a tear glistened 
in his eyes, " This is the happiest day of my life, to know that my five sons 
fought bravely for freedom, though one has fallen in the conflict." How vain, 
should tales like these have reached the British ministers, must ha"ve appeared 
the attempt to queU such a people by an appeal to arms ! 

The moral effect of tliis victory, after the panic and depression caused by 
BurgojTie's continued successes, was immense. The militia came forward 
cheerfully, and instead of shrinking from the idea of meeting the British, desired 



17'?7.] GATES ASSUMES- COMMAND OF THE AMERICANS. 439 

to be led against tliem. Ey this means, and by the arrival of the troops sent 
from the Highlands, the American army was increasing every day. It was 
at this moment, when the clouds began to lift, and a cheering ray burst 
forth on the hitherto discouraged provincials, that Schuyler, whose steady 
perseverance had prepared the change, was superseded by Gates, who, as 
abeady stated, had, by the intrigues of the New England delegates in Con- 
gress, been unjustly appointed in his place. The new commander found 
matters all ready to his hand. An army already outnumbering that of the 
British, was animated with an enthusiasm created by recent victory. The bril- 
liant, impetuous Arnold, was already at the camp, after his recent doings at 
Fort Schuyler. On the following day arrived Morgan, with his practised 
and daring riflemen. Schviyler himself was also there, remitting notliing of 
his activity, though removed from the chief command. Though feeling, to 
the bottom of his soul, the bitter indignity by which his zealous services had 
been rejoaid by Congress, he rose superior to all selfish considerations. He 
therefore received Gates with perfect courtesy, and said to him, — " I have done 
all that could be done, as far as the means were in my power, to inspire confidence 
in the soldiers of our own army, and I flatter myself with some success, but 
the palm of victory is denied me, and it is left to you. General, to reap the 
fruits of my labours. I will not fail, however, to second your views, and my 
devotion to my country will cause me with ala,crity to obey all your orders." 
Almost the first task that devolved upon Gates, Avas a correspondence with 
Burgoyne on the subject of a recent incident, which had struck both armies, 
and all the country round, with feelings of the liveliest horror, and which was 
cited, far and wide, Avith lively indignation at the British policy of emj)loying 
the savage Indians as allies. Notwithstanding all the eflJbrts of Burgoyne and 
his ofiS.cers to restrain their propensities, instances of cruelty had already oc- 
curred; even the loyalists themselves were alarmed at the keen thirst for blood 
and plunder which too often confounded friend with foe. The present occa- 
sion Avas peculiarly painful. A young lady named Jenny M'Crea, A^'ho resided 
with her brother, Avho was a republican, near Fort EdAvard, had a lover in 
the British camp, in the person of a young officer named Jones. She Avas 
awaiting his arrival, as it was said, at the house of a Mrs. McNeil, AAdien a party 
of Burgoyne's Indians burst into the house, killed and scalped her, the other 
effecting her escape. This incident occasioned an indignant and rather over- 
Avi-ought remonstrance from the American commander, and Burgoyne, much 
distressed, ordered an inquiry to be instituted. It was at first supposed that 
Jones had sent the two Indians to bring the young lady in safety to the Brit- 
ish camp, fearing lest her brother should carry her ofl^, that they quarrelled 
about the reward, and in a fit of fury murdered its subject. The young officer, 
however, who never recovered from the shock occasioned by the loss of his 
betrothed, denied all knoAvledge of such a plan, and the real truth, brought to 
light by the inquiries of the clever author of the " Field Book of the Eevolu- 
tion," seems to be singularly different from the ordinary version. According 
to his account, when the Indians burst into the house and carried off" the two 



440 CAPTURE OF FORTS HOPE AND DEFIANCE. [1777. 

women, the alarm was speedily given by a runaway, and a party of Americans 
were sent in pursuit of the marauders. They fired, and shot Miss M'Crea ; 
and the savages, unable to convey her alive to the British camp, took off her 
scalp as an evidence of their intended capture. When we bear in mind Bur- 
goyne's express declaration that he would punish any Indian who scalped an 
unresisting enemy, this tale, related by the surviving fugitive herself, now 
a very old woman, seems far more conformable with truth. To the excited 
state of the public mind, however, the darkest version was the most congenial, 
and being speedily propagated over the whole country, inspired the deepest 
detestation of an enemy who could employ, or even tolerate, such barbarous 
and bloody auxiliaries. 

While the ardour of the Americans was perpetually on the increase, 
the failure of St. Leger's attack upon Fort Schuyler, and the defection 
of the Indians, with the disastrous affliir at Bennington, spread, on the other 
hand, like a cloud over the spirits of the British army, so lately excited 
with the sanguine expectation of triumph. The slow and toilsome rate 
at which their stores were conveyed from Lake George, compelled them to 
remain inactive in front of an enemy every hour increasing in numbers and 
spirit. The Indian allies, disgusted with this tedium, and with the restraint 
imposed upon them, rapidly fell off, some of them, indeed, even joining the 
Americans. Many of the Canadians and loyalists speedily followed their ex- 
ample. The Americans too had made a vigorous attempt to cut off the com- 
munication with Canada. General Lincoln, with a body of militia, after sur- 
prising the posts on Lake George, had seized Fort Hope and Fort Defiance, 
and endeavoured, though in vain, to recapture Ticonderoga. Nothing what- 
ever had been heard of the intended advance of Clinton up the Hudson. In 
view of all these circumstances, there were not a few among the British officers 
who hinted to their commander that it might be more prudent to retire upon 
the Lakes, or even upon Canada, than to advance into a position from which 
it would be ruinous, if not impossible, to retreat. 

Though Burgoyne could not be insensible to the perils so obviously thick- 
ening around him, both personal honour, and the express instructions of 
ministers, left him no alternative but to push on. Although no news of Clin- 
ton had been received, yet, as the co-operation of that general formed part of 
the original plan, it was hardly to be imagined he could have neglected to do so, 
and every day might bring the welcome intelligence of his approach. With- 
out calling, therefore, any further councils, which might disturb his resolution 
by their ominous forebodings, Burgoyne assumed the entire responsibility of 
his movements, and having with great labour collected a supply of provisions 
for thirty days, he determined to advance, and clear the way before him to 
Albany. 

It was now past the middle of September, the finest season in America, and 
the scene of hostilities was admirably fitted to display its beauties. The river 
Hudson in this part of its course, less majestic than below, yet still too broad 
and deep to be forded, flowed through a valley bordered by a chain of hills. 













s ^ i *"' ^ ^ ^ "■« 






i:i'l.]BURGOYNE C03IES UP WITH THE AMERICAN ARMY. 441 

intersected with numerous ravines, and covered with woods now dyed in the 
most gorgeous autumnal colouring in the world. The continuity of the virgin 
forest was broken by a few farms, with their cleared fields, and a narrow strip 
of meadow land intervened between the river and the hills. By the advice of 
Kosciusko, Gates had formed an intrenched camp upon these hills at a spot 
above the river, called Bemis's Heights, occupied by his right, under his 
own command. The flat below, along which Burgoyne's artillery must pass, 
was protected by a trench and battery, v/hich served also to defend a floating 
bridge. The left, under Arnold, extended along the wooded heights about 
three quarters of a mile back from the river, and was covered by batteries 
and redoubts. In this strong position the American commander confidently 
aAvaited the enemy. 

As soon as he had resolved to advance, Burgoyne threw a bridge across the 
Hudson and crossed with his army, from the eastern to the western side of 
the river, along which Lay the direct road to Albany. Hence proceeding 
but slowly, on account of the badness of the road, he encamped on the 18th 
at Wilbur's Basin, about two miles from the American camp, which he pre- 
pared to attack upon the morrow. 

The morning was soft and brilliant, and at an early hour the British 
columns were seen by the American pickets forming for battle, amidst the 
irregular openings of the forest, in a line nearly parallel with that of their 
own army. The heavy artillery, under Phillips and Reidesel, forming the 
left wing, moved slowly along the river-side, while Burgoyne and Fraser ad- 
vanced over the irregular hills at the head of the centre and right. One or 
two broken ravines interposed between the opposite lines, and it was the 
design of these officers to pass them in separate parties, effect a junction, and 
fall in concert upon the American left, under Arnold. This done, at a pre- 
concerted signal, the artillery, under Phillips, was to advance along the flat 
and complete the discomfiture of the republican army. 

It would appear, at first, to have been Gates's intention to remain on the 
defensive within his lines, but such a proceeding ill suited the impetuous 
temper of Arnold, who thought that the bravest, and even the most prudent 
course, was to anticipate the attack of his adversary. At his earnest solicita- 
tion, Morgan was sent out with his riflemen, and after a spirited skirmish, 
drove back the Canadians and Indians, who covered the main body of the 
English. Fraser, meanwhile, was pushing onward as fast as the irregular and 
woody ground would permit, to turn the American left, when he was suddenly 
encountered by Arnold, meditating a similar design on hira. The latter, 
with his accustomed bravery, led his men with shouts to the attack, but was 
at length driven back by Fraser. Rallying again and joined by fresh rein- 
forcements, he threatened to cut off" his opponent's division from the main 
body; but Fraser parried this design by bringing up new i-egiments, while 
Phillips despatched four pieces of light artillery, under the command of Lieu- 
tenant Jones, to ' strengthen the point thus menaced. Thus, the conflict was 
for a while suspended, but about three o'clock it raged with increased fury, 

S L 



442 PERILOUS POSITION OF THE ENGLISH. [1777. 

The British artillery thundered upon the enemy, but from the closeness of 
the forest produced but little effect. Their troops then advanced with the 
bayonet, driving the Americans within the woods, who again sallied forth 
and renewed the combat with desperate fury, and thus each party alternately 
bore back the other— the British guns being several times taken and re- 
taken, till the gallant Jones, who commanded them, at length fell dead at his 
jDOst. Terrible execution was done by the American riflemen, who climbed 
into trees and picked off the British officers ; Burgoyne himself having a most 
narrow escape. Arnold, who during the day had behaved with the most 
daring bravery, earnestly entreated Gates, towards evening, to let him attack 
the British with fresh troops, in the hope of achieving a complete victory, but 
the commander-in-chief refused to run any farther hazard. And thus night 
closed upon as obstinate an encounter, as, by the admission of the British 
generals, they were ever engaged in. They still occupied the field of battle, 
and claimed the victory, but as it was evidently their intention to force a pas- 
sage, their failure was practically a defeat, both in the elation which it caused 
to the Americans and the di couragement to their own trooj)s, who slej^t upon the 
field, ready, if needful, to renew the engagement on the following morning. 

By his daring bravery in this affair, Arnold had acquired general admira- 
tion, Avhich, however, Avas but coldly looked upon by Gates, who Avas offended 
with his forwardness, and feared, perhaps, some unfortunate result of his im- 
pulsive ardour. A dispute which arose, ended in Gates threatening to take 
away Arnold's command ; and the latter, maddened by his treatment, rec[uest- 
ing a pass to leave the army. On reflection, however, he determined to remain 
and act as a volunteer ; for on the arrival of General Lincoln with fresh troops. 
Gates gave up to that officer the command of the right wing, and himself 
assumed the command of the left. 

This decisive check convinced Burgoyne that it was almost hopeless 
to force the American lines, and that the road to Albany was closed to 
him. His situation now became exceedingly perilous, he could neither ad- 
vance nor retreat with safety, and his chance of escape entirely depended 
on the speedy appearance of Clinton. Repeated messengers had been de- 
spatched, but had been intercepted by the vigilance of the American pickets. 
At length, when impatience was at its height, a messenger arrived with a 
letter in cipher from Clinton, informing Burgoyne that about the 20th of the 
month he intended to advance up the Hudson and attack Fort IMontgomery, 
in the hope that this movement might alarm Gates, and compel him to retreat 
— more than that, he regretted to say, was not in his power to promise. Bur- 
goyne immediately despatched several emissaries by different Avays to Clinton, 
exposing his perilous position, and stating that his provisions would only hold 
out until the 12th of October. The ncAvs of Clinton's intended movement was 
also conveyed to Gates's camp, where it excited considerable apprehension. 

The day after the battle, such was the scarcity of ammunition in the 
American camp, that had Burgoyne been acquainted Avith it, he would not 
have failed to rencAv the combat, and might have obtained a decisive victory. 



1777.] RENEWAL OF THE BATTLE. 443 

But tlie dangerous secret was kept safely by Gates, until fresh supplies had 
come in. His troops M^ere now every day increasing, the whole country around 
rising with spirit, and hemming in, on all sides, the British army, which by 
losses and desertions was as rapidly falling away. 

Burgoyne now proceeded to throw up intrenchments, extending from the 
river along the hills, and defended upon the extreme right by a formidable re- 
doubt. In this position the army passed sixteen miserable days. It had been 
found necessary already to reduce the rations, and the capture by the Americans 
of a large convoy of provisions put the climax to their distress. It was now 
the sixth of October, and on the twelfth they must decamp. A council was 
held, at which it was decided to fight rather than starve, besides which, by a 
successful stroke, they might, peradventure, break through the enemy's lines, 
and extricate themselves from their perilous position. 

With the overwhelming force in front of him, Burgoyne could not venture 
to withdi'aw more than fifteen hundred picked men from his lines, and with 
these on the morning of the 7th he issued forth, partly to cover a foraging 
party, and also if possible to turn the American left, which, since the first bat- 
tle, had been considerably strengthened. After some preliminary skirmishing,, 
about two o'clock the conflict began in earnest. The British right was under 
Earl Balcarras, the left under Major Acland, and the artillery under Major 
Williams, while Generals Phillips and Reidesel commanded the centre. To 
General Fraser was confided the charge of five hundred picked men, destined, 
at the critical moment, to fall upon the American left flank. Gates perceiving 
this design, detached Morgan with his rifle corps and other troops, three times 
outnumbering Fraser's, to overwhelm that officer at the same moment that a 
large force attacked the British left. 

Such was the general position of the combatants, to follow their movements 
in detail would convey but a confused idea to the reader. Suffice it to say, 
the conflict between two armies of the same Anglo-Saxon blood and sinew, was 
waged with the desperate resolution that discipline and despair on the one 
hand, and on the other the consciousness that they were fighting to expel a 
foreign invader, could inflame the breasts of the combatants. The British 
artillery, from the broken and woody nature of the ground, could not be eflfec- 
tively brought into play, and the contest had to be decided by daring courage 
and dogged tenacity alone. 

As the Americans advanced to attack the British left artillery, they were 
received with a crashing storm of balls, which, however, from the nature 
of the ground, for the most part fell harmless. They then rushed to the as- 
sault with fury, but were confronted with equal determination. Five times 
one of the pieces was captured and recaptured. Colonel Cilley leaped upon 
a cannon, and, sword in hand, dedicating it to " the American cause," wheeled 
it round upon the British, an exploit which inflamed his men to the highest 
pitch. Yet it was not until Major Acland was wounded, and the captain of 
artillery taken prisoner, that the British were compelled to fall back. IMorgan 
meanwliile, with his fifteen hundred marksmen, had forced Fraser to give way, 

3 JL 2 



444 ARNOLD DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF. [1777. 

and then assailed the British right, "who were however rallied, while the centre 
as yet remained unshaken. 

Such was the state of affairs, when Arnold, no longer able to control his 
feelings, leaped on horseback, and though without a command, put himself at 
the head of some of his old regiments and rushed into the thick of the battle. 
Gates, fearing lest he should commit some blunder, sent his aide-de-camp in 
chase of him, but his movements were so erratic that he could not be over- 
taken. Waving high his sabre, and urging forward his followers with 
shouts, Arnold threw himself with irresistible fury upon the British centre, 
which was unable to support the shock. The engagement was now general, 
and raged on all sides with desperate fury, Fraser, foiled in his original 
design, became most conspicuous among the English leaders. As the line 
was broken he rallied it, and with eagle-eyed glance adopting a fresh dispo- 
sition, successfully parried all the movements of the enemy. Splendidly 
mounted, and in the full dress of a field officer, he dashed to and fro amidst 
the din of conflict, the soul of the British ranks, and seemed by his own pre- 
sence and example alone to uphold their resistance. 

The practice of picking off the British ofRcers had become a favourite one 
with the Americans ever since the commencement of the war, but it never 
appears to have led the former to shrink from the discharge of their duty. 
Arnold, it is said, first suggested to Morgan tlie necessity of cutting off Fraser, 
and Morgan calling around a file of his riflemen, thus addressed them : " That 
gallant officer is General Fraser, I admire and honour him, but it is necessary 
he should die ; take your station amidst that clump of bushes and do your 
duty." They clambered into the trees, and in a few moments a rifle-ball cut 
the crupper of the general's hors*, while another passed through his horse's 
mane. His-aide-de camp warned him that the enemy were taking aim 
at him, and urged him to defeat their purpose by removing. The gallant 
general was perfectly aware of it, but merely replied to this pressing solicita- 
tion, " My duty forbids me to fly from danger." The next moment he fell 
from his horse mortally wounded, and was carried off the field. 

Burgoyne now earnestly endeavoured to rally the discouraged English, 
overwhelmed at this critical moment by three thousand fresh troops. He had 
himself behaved Avith distinguished courage, and had several narrow escapes 
from the fate that had befallen Fraser, one bullet having passed through his 
hat, and another his coat. But all his efforts were in vain, the line gave way, 
and covered by PhiUips and Reidesel, retreated tumultuously within their 
intrenchments, closely pursued by the victorious and exulting Americans. 

Foremost in the attack was Arnold, who, intoxicated with success, and 
utterly reckless of danger, seemed determined at all events to carry the in- 
trenchments that very night. Foiled in one direction by the obstinate resist- 
ance of the English, he galloped off through the thick of the fire, till meeting 
another body of assailants, he put himself at their head and threw himself 
with fury upon that part of the line defended by the Germans. His voice 
rose above the tumult of battle, and in the fury of excitement he struck one of 



1777.] DEATH OF GENERAL ERASER. 445 

his own officers with, the sword, to urge him forward. At length, having 
found the gate of the intrenchments, he burst within, the panic-struck Ger- 
mans retreated with a parting volley which arrested his headlong career, 
wounding him in the same knee which had already been shattered at the battle 
of Quebec. As he was carried off the field he was encountered by the aide- 
de-camp bearing Gates's order for him to return to the camp, but not before he 
had achieved for himself a brilliant reputation. 

It was now getting dark — the Germans abandoned the outworks, and fled 
to the interior of the camp. Meanwhile another detachment of the Ameri- 
cans, under Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks, had assaulted the outworks at a dif- 
ferent point, defeated the Germans, killed Breyman their leader, captured 
their baggage and ammiinition, and established themselves within the lines. 
It was in vain that Burgoyne, who saw the imminent peril, endeavoured to 
dislodge them — the troops were now fairly exhausted, and night beheld the 
British forced within their camp, part of which was already in the power of the 
Americans, who only seemed to await the daylight to renew a combat, which, 
with their overwhelming numbers, could hardly have failed to be decisive. 

The miseries of that night were long and painfully remembered by the 
English. As his present position was clearly untenable, Burgoyne employed 
the hours of darkness in skilfully transferring his camp to some neighbouring 
heights ; where, with his back defended by the river, he was placed above 
the fear of immediate attack. During this operation, General Fraser was fast 
sinking. He had been carried to a house occupied by Baroness Beidesel, 
who, amid the roar of artillery and musketry, was expecting the arrival of her 
husband and Generals Burgoyne, Phillips, and Fraser to dinner, when the 
latter was brought in. Other wounded officers speedily followed, until the 
room of the baroness and her children was turned into an hospital for the 
dying. During the night Fraser often exclaimed, " Oh fatal ambition ! Poor 
General Bu.rgoyne ! Oh my poor wife ! " He expressed a wish to be buried 
at six next evening, in the great redoubt. About eight in the morning he 
expired. Although a retreat was now decided on, and delay was dangerous, 
yet the British commander could not but linger a few hours to comply with 
the request of his gallant companion in arms. The day passed away in 
skirmishes with the enemy, and in preparations for departure. At six in the 
evening the corpse of the departed general, wrapped in a sheet, Avas brought 
out, and the generals accompanied it in funeral procession to the mountain, in 
full sight of both armies. The English soldiers, by whom Fraser was greatly 
beloved, watched its progress with heavy hearts, while the Americans, who 
at first mistook its ' import, continued to throw balls upon the redou.bt. 
Having reached its summit, the funeral procession came to a halt, and the 
chaplain, while the sand flew over him, read through the impressive burial 
service fairly unto the end. While the sky became dark and lurid, the can- 
nonade suddenly ceased, and was replaced by the solemn booming of the 
mmute gun, plaintively echoing among the surrounding hills ; the tribute 
paid by the Americans to the memory of the gallant chief. 



446 RETREAT OF THE ENGLISH TO SARATOGA. [1777. 

Scarcely had these obsequies been performed, than the soldiers, who had 
been i;ndcr arms now for nearly thirty-six hours, were immediately put in 
motion. The sick and wounded were abandoned to the mercy of the Ameri- 
cans, who treated them with great humanity. About nine o'clock the retreat 
began. The evening sky had threatened a storm, and before midnight the 
rain began to fall in torrents, the darkness was profound, the road horrible. 
At six in the morning the army came to a halt ; the soldiers, worn out as they 
were, fell asleep in their wet clothes — the officers were little better off — and 
the ladies accompanying the army were compelled to submit to the same pri- 
vations, Avhich they endured with unflagging cheerfulness. The bridge over 
the Fishkill Creek was broken down, and to cover the retreat, Burgoyne 
ordered General Schuyler's house and mills to be set on fire. What with the 
weather and other drawbacks, the army did not reach Saratoga, a distance of 
only six miles, until evening on the following day. 

To escape was now the one absorbing idea, and no attempt, however 
desperate, was left untried to accomplish it. But Gates, anticipating the re- 
sult, had sent forward parties to guard all the fords of the Hudson, and had 
formed an encampment in the rear of Burgoyne, directly in his path to Lake 
George. A party was sent forward to repair the bridge at Fort Edward, 
across which the army might effect their passage up the Hudson; but they 
returned Avith the disheartening intelligence that the Americans were already 
in force upon the opposite side. 

At this crisis occurred an incident, which had nearly altered the w^hole posi- 
tion of affairs. Gates, who had slowly followed up his enemy, supposing that 
the main body of the British troops had advanced towards Fort Edward, and 
that the rear-guard alone was before him, had planned an attack upon it, which 
Burgoyne learning, placed his forces in ambuscade, and prepared to over- 
whelm him wath the entire army. The American van was already advancing, 
when a deserter from the British camp came in and revealed the plot, only just 
in time to save the Americans from a certain defeat. This disappointment 
might well be considered by Burgoyne *' as one of the most adverse strokes 
of fortune during the campaign." 

All avenue to escape was too evidently closed. Not a line had been received 
from Clinton. The scouts had tried all the fords and passages, and found 
them vigilantly guarded. An army of three times their number environed the 
English on three sides, while their own, by deaths and desertions, was reduced 
to half its original number. The soldiers were constantly under arms, and ex- 
posed to the balls of the enemy, which continually flew into the camp. The 
women alone, upon whom the Americans refused to fire, dared go down to 
the river to fetch water ; and thirst, as well as hunger, began to distress the 
soldiers. Provisions for three days alone remained, and there was not the 
remotest chance of any further supply. The men, althoiigh not a murmur 
escaped them, and they bore their sufferings with firmness, were exhausted 
with their toils and privations. The trials of the officers' wives were only 
equalled by the courage and constancy with which they were endured. " A 



1777.] SUFFERINGS IN THE ENGLISH CAMP. U7 

terrible cannonade," says the Baroness Reldesel, ''was commenced by the 
enemy against the house in which I sought to obtain shelter for myself and 
children, under the mistaken idea that all the generals were in it. Alas ! it 
contained none but wovmded and women. We were at last obliged to resort 
to the cellar for refuge, and in one corner of this I remained the whole day, my 
children sleeping on the earth with their heads in my lap, and in the same 
situation I passed a sleepless night. Eleven cannon balls passed through the 
house, and we could, distinctly hear them roll away. One poor soldier, who 
was lying on a table for the purpose of having his leg amputated, was struck 
by a shot, which carried away his other ; his comrades had left him, and 
when we went to his assistance we found him in a corner of the room, into 
which he had crept, more dead than alive, scarcely breathing. My reflections on 
the danger to which my husband was exposed now agonized me exceedingly, 
and the thoughts of my children, and the necessity of struggling for their pre- 
servation, alone sustained me." The cellar was filled with terrified women and 
wounded officers, upon whom the baroness attended with devoted zeal, resigning 
even her own food to relieve their more pressing wants. One day her husband 
and General Phillips came over to see her, at the imminent risk of their lives ; 
the latter declaring as he Avent away, " I would not for ten thousand guineas 
come again to this place, my heart is almost broken." In this forlorn situation 
they remained for several days, until released by the cessation of hostilities. 

At length, with feelings of the bitterest mortification, Burgoyne was 
obliged to call a general council of his officers. The American shot 
whistled about the tent in which they held their deliberations, and a cannon- 
ball flew across the table at which the officers were sitting. The council was 
brief and sad, for there could be but one opinion on the subject. In the 
evening a flag was sent to General Gates, and ten o'clock on the following 
morning was fixed upon to arrange the terms of a capitulation. 

At ten o'clock next morning the British adjutant-general proceeded to the 
American quarters, and delivered the following note : " After having fought 
you twice, Lieutenant-General Burgoyne has waited some days in his present 
position, determined to try a third conflict against any force you could bring 
against him. He is apprized of your superiority of numbers, and the dispo- 
sition of your troops to impede his supplies, and render his retreat a scene of 
carnage on both sides. In this situation he is impelled by humanity, and 
thinks himself justified by established principles and precedents of state and 
war, to spare the lives of brave men upon honourable terms. Should Major- 
General Gates be inclined to treat upon that idea. General Burgoyne would 
propose a cessation of arms during the time necessary to communicate the 
preliminary terms, by which in any extremity he and his army mean to 
abide." In anticipation of this result, Gates had already prepared a statement 
of terms, in which he required that the British army should surrender as pri- 
soners of war, and deposit their arms in their own camp. To these hard 
conditions Burgoyne would not submit, and Gates was the less careful to 
insist on thenij that he well knew the English succours were not far distant. 



448 CLINTON STARTS FROM NEW YORK, [1777. 

and that it was desirable to conclude the business without delay. He re- 
mitted therefore the most objectionable clauses, and the following conven- 
tion was at length agreed upon : That the army should march out of the 
camp with all the honours of war, and its camp artillery, to a fixed place, 
where they were to deposit their arms and leave the artillery ; to be allowed 
a free embarkation and passage to Europe, from Boston, on condition of their 
not serving again in America during the present war ; the army not to be 
separated, particularly the men from the officers ; roll-carrying and other 
duties of regularity to be permitted ; the officers to be admitted on parole, 
and to wear their side-arms ; all private property to be retained, and the pub- 
lic to be delivered upon honour ; no baggage to be searched or molested ; all 
persons, of whatever country, appertaining to, or following the camp, to be 
fully comprehended in the terms of capitulation, and the Canadians to be re- 
turned to their own country, liable to its conditions. 

AYliile Burgoyne had been anxiously looking for the arrival of Clinton, the 
latter general had been as anxiously awaiting at New York the arrival of 
fresh troops from England in order to co-operate with him. Here occurred 
another of those delays so fatal to the British, so providential to the American 
cause. The ships, already long expected, were three months on their passage* 
and did not arrive until the beginning of October, when the army at Sara- 
toga were already in the greatest straits. Without losing a moment, Clinton 
now prepared to make a powerful diversion. 

Between New York and Albany the magnificent Hudson traverses a ro- 
mantic mountain pass, denominated the Highlands, extending from near New- 
burgh on the north to Peekskill on the south, a distance of several miles. 
The majestic stream, here compressed into a narrower bed, flows in a sinuous 
course, between lofty mountains clothed with wood to their very tops. Some- 
times, descending abruptly into the water, they forbid all progress along its 
edge ; at others, presenting bold promontories and platforms, offer excellent 
positions for defensive works. As the pass, by commanding the Hudson and 
its communications, was most important in a military point of vicAv, it had 
been at an early period carefully fortified, and a detachment of the army was 
always left to guard it. On the present occasion it had been necessaiy to 
withdraw a considerable portion of the usual contingent, and thus when 
Clinton ascended the Hudson, General Putnam, the commanding officer then 
stationed at Peekskill, could muster but about two thousand men with which 
to oppose his enemy. 

Sir Henry Clinton, with five thousand t? oops^ ascended the river in barges 
within a few miles of Peekskill, and landing his troops, appeared to menace 
that place, where large stores were usually collected. "VYhile Putnam, de- 
ceived by this demonstration, was thinking only how to defend himself, Clin- 
ton, leaving part of his troops behind, crossed over in a fog with a strong 
column, and piloted by a Tory over a lofty mountain called the Dunderberg, 
suddenly appeared before Forts Montgomery and Clinton. These forts, 
near the southern entrance of the Higlilands and on the western shore, stood 



o 



1777.] CLINTON TAKES THE HUDSON PASS. 449 

close togetlier on two bold eminences above tbe river, and with another called 
Fort Independence, a little loAver down on the eastern side. A strong boom 
thrown across the river, and some frigates and sloops stationed on the 
further side of it, completed the southern defences of this pass. Further up 
to the north was Fort Constitution, where a second boom crossed the river. 
Through all these obstacles it was necessary to force a passage in order to 
send help to Burgoyne. 

Meanwhile the British advanced rapidly, and Governor Clinton, the 
commandant of Fort Montgomery, had but time to throw out parties to 
check their advance, and despatch a message to Putnam for succour, when, 
after driving in his outposts, after a most sphited resistance, the assail- 
ants, about five in the afternoon, were before the works, and summoned the 
garrison to surrender. The American commandant declared his intention to 
defend the fort to the uttermost. English ships, under Commodore Hotham, 
now advanced close up to the boom, and co-operated with the attack by land. 
Count Grebowski, a Polish officer, with Lord Rawdon, proceeded to storm the 
works. The former was mortally wounded, but the attack proved successful, 
and as night came on, such of the defenders as escaped the assault fled into 
the neighbouring mountains. As an adverse wind prevented the escape of 
the American frigates, their crews ignited them and got away in their boats. 
" The flames," to use the words of Stedman, '' suddenly burst forth, and, as 
every sail was set, the vessels soon became magnificent pyramids of fire. The 
reflection on the steep side of the opposite mountain, and the long train of 
muddy light which shone upon the waters for a prodigious distance, had a 
wonderful eflect ; while the air was filled with the continued echoes from the 
rocky shores, as the flames gradually reached the loaded cannons. The whole 
was sublimely terminated by the explosions, which left all again in darkness. 
As soon as daylight enabled them to begin, the fleet set to work and destroyed 
the boom ; Fort Constitution was obliged to surrender, the Hudson pass was 
in possession of the British, and a free road open along the river shore to 
Albany. By this dashing exploit Clinton had dealt a heavy blow at the 
Americans, who had collected an immense quantity of artillery and stores in 
these Highland strongholds. 

Thus, on the sixth of October, while Burgoyne was counting the hours in a 
state of mortal anxiety at Saratoga, the English ships, bearing a large detach- 
ment, under Generals Vaughan and Wallace, sailed up the river towards 
Albany. Why, knowing the perilous predicament of Burgoyne, they did not 
at once hasten to that to^vn, seize the American stores deposited there, debark 
their troops, and, by menacing Gates's army in the rear, make a diversion in 
favom- of the beleaguered and despairing general, must be allowed to baffle all 
comprehension, and can only be referred to a certain mysterious fatality. 
Gates afterwards declared, that had they done so, he should have been obliged 
to retire, and Burgoyne must have escaped. But the fact is, that instead of 
hurrying forward, they occupied themselves in burning the town of Esopus, 
and committing the most useless and wanton devastation. A few hours more 

3 M 



450 THE CAPITULATION OF SARATOGA. [1777. 

■would have borne them to the relief of Burgoyne, who, utterly despairing of 
succour, Avas at that very time entering into terms of capitulation with 
Gates. Perhaps the British generals might have believed it too late, or 
might have thought it a salutary, though severe policy, thus to strike terror 
into the minds of the republicans; but if so, they were speedily undeceived. 
Gates afterwards addressed a severe letter to Vaughan. ''Is it thus," he in- 
dignantly inquired, " that the generals of the king expect to make converts 
to the royal cause? Their cruelties operate as a contrary effect — independence 
is founded upon the universal disgust of the people. The fortune of war has 
delivered into my hands older and abler generals than General Vaughan is 
reputed to be, their condition may one day become his, and then no human 
power can save him from the just vengeance of an offended people." 

To return to the camp of Saratoga. No sooner were the articles of sur- 
render, although not signed, yet fully agreed upon, than, on the night of the 
16th, Captain Campbell, who had contrived to steal his way through the 
American lines, reached the British camp with despatches from Sir Henry Clin- 
ton, informing Burgoyne of his capture of the Highland forts, and of the advance 
of Vaughan as far as Esopus. But it was noAV too late, Burgoyne, indeed, who 
would have dared all risks, and submitted to any extremities, rather than 
force his proud spirit to a surrender, called a council of his officers, and asked 
whether they considered that their word was pledged, the convention being 
as yet unsigned. All replied in the affirmative, and affirmed, moreover, that 
even were it otherwise, the soldiers were unable to sustain another encounter. 
Gates had long known of the expedition which had only just been communi- 
cated to the British commander, and fearful lest these new-born hopes should 
induce the latter to retract from his word, he drew up his troops in order of 
battle, and sent a decisive message, requiring immediate signature of the con- 
vention, with which Burgoyne had no alternative but to comply. 

Slowly and sadly, on the following morning, the British soldiers marched 
doM'n from their camp to the spot appointed for their surrender. Gates, 
with a feeling of delicacy that did him honour, had caused his entire army to 
retire to a distance, ^o that his aide-de-camp was the only American present. 
After the soldiers had deposited their arms, Burgoyne and his officers ad- 
vanced to visit Gates, who came forward and received him at the head of his 
staffi The British general, removing his hat, said, " The fortune of war. 
General Gates, has made me your prisoner : " the other replied, " I shall 
always be ready to testify that it has not been through any fault of your 
Excellency," The ice thus broken, both victors and vanquished soon mingled 
in mutual courtesy, A splendid feast succeeded, but a cloud hung over the 
spirits of the captive general. After dinner, as the British army defied in 
lengthened line, between the American ranks, on their forlorn march towards 
Boston, the two commanders came out together, and gazed upon the spec- 
tacle with widely different feelings. Then drawing his sword, Burgoyne 
courteously presented it to Gates, who bowed and returned it to its owner. 
With this formality terminated the memorable surrender at Saratoga, 



17^7.] WASHINGTON HEARS OF BURGOYNE' 8 SURRENDER. 451 

The Americans had already displayed the greatest humanity in their treat- 
ment of the sick and wounded, and they now laboured to soften by their 
generous courtesy the bitter humiliation of their enemies. Nothing could 
exceed the behaviour of General Schuyler. " You show me great kindness, 
though I have done you much injury," said Burgoyne to him, in allusion to 
the destruction of his house and property. " That was the fate of war," was 
the magnanimous reply, " let us say no more about it." Unable to accom- 
pany the captive general to Albany, he wrote to his wife to give him the best 
reception in her power ; but it was like heaping live coals upon the head of 
the unhappy Burgoyne. The best aj)artments in Schuyler's house were given 
xv^, and the honours of the supper were performed with such heartfelt kind- 
ness, that he could not refrain his tears, but bitterly exclaimed, " Indeed, 
this is too much for the man who has ravaged their lands and burned their 
dwellings ! " 

Wliile these scenes were passing, Washington, aware of the situation of 
affairs, was in a state of great anxiety, fully anticipating some decisive 
intelligence. The brilliant successes of Gates, contrasted with his own re- 
peated misfortunes, had given strength to a cabal for transferring to the former 
the office of commander-in-chief; and "Washington well knew that the cap- 
ture of Burgoyne would probably be decisive of his own fate. It was on the 
forenoon of Saturday, the 18tli of October, that Colonel Pickering, adjutant- 
general of the army, was engaged in official business with Washington, in the 
upper room of a house at York, where Congress was then in session. While 
sitting there, (to quote the narrative of Upham^) a horseman was seen ap- 
proaching, whose appearance indicated that he had travelled long, and from 
far. His aspect, his saddle bags, and the manner of his movement, indicated 
that he was an express-rider. The attention of both Washington and Picker- 
ing was at once arrested. They took it for granted that he was bearing 
despatches from the northern army to Congress, and were sure that he could 
inform them whether the report of Burgoyne's surrender was well founded. 
As he approached near them. Colonel Pickering recognised him as an officer 
belonging to the northern army. At Washington's request he ran down to 
the door, stopped him, and conducted him up to the general's room, with his 
saddle-bags. Washington instantly opened them, tore the envelope off a 
package, spread out an announcement of the victory at Saratoga and Bur- 
goyne's surrender to General Gates, and attempted to read it aloud. As he 
read, the colour gradually settled away from his countenance, his hand trem- 
bled, his lip quivered, his utterance failed him — he dropped the paper, clasped 
his hands, raised them on high, and for several moments was lost in a raj)ture 
of adoring gratitude. " While I gazed," Colonel Pickering used to say, 
" while I gazed upon this sublime exhibition of sensibility, I saw conclusive 
proof that, in comparison with the good of his country, self was absolutely 
nothing, — the man disappeared from my view, and the very image and 
personilication of the patriot stood before me." This anecdote was communi- 
cated to Mr. Upham by Colonel Pickering himself. 

3 M 2 



452 GOLD MEDAL AWARDED TO GATES. [1777. 

Gates despatched his favourite aide-de-camp, Wilkinson, to Congress. On 
being introduced into the hall, he said, " The whole British army has laid down 
arms at Saratoga — our own, full of vigour and courage, expect your orders ; 
it is for your wisdom to decide where the country may still have need of 
their services." This intelligence, in point of etiquette, ought to have been 
first sent by Gates to Washington; but the pride of the victor refused to 
acknowledge a superior. Congress immediately voted thanks to the army 
and its leader, and decreed that he should receive a gold medal ; his por- 
trait bearing this inscription, " Horatio Gates, Duci strenuo," and beneath, 
" Comitia Americana." On the reverse, Burgoyne was represented giving 
up his sword to Gates, with the two armies in the back-ground. On the top 
were these words, " Salus E-egionum Septentrion," and below, " Hoste ad 
Saratogam in deditione accepto, Die XVII. Oct., MDCCLXXVII." The 
victor of Burgoyne was ahnost idolized by the Americans, and his talents 
vaunted by his partisans as superior to tTiose of Washington himself. 

Indeed it was impossible to overrate the importance of this victory to the 
American cause. Since the opening of the campaign little else than disasters 
had occurred. The enemy had taken New York and Philadelphia, and 
Congress had been obliged to fly into the interior. Tory influence was 
again in the ascendant, the advocates of the patriot cause waxing lukewarm 
and fearful. The paper money was fast depreciating in value, owing to the 
fear that Congress would never be able to redeem its promises. Darkness 
and discouragement brooded over the prospects of the rising republic. The 
eflect, then, of such a brilliant triumph, so far surpassing all reasonable ex- 
pectation, was electric. The hands of Congress were strengthened, the coun- 
try looked up with renewed hope, while it might be expected that the French, 
who were carefully watching the progress of events, convinced that the re- 
solution of the Americans might be fully depended on, would no longer 
confine themselves to covertly assisting them, but would openly espouse 
their cause. 

We left Washington in his camp on the Schuylkill, watching the move- 
ments of the army of Howe, part of which occupied the city of Philadelphia, 
while the remainder lay at Germantown, a large village about ten miles dis- 
tant. The British fieet had recently entered the Delaware, but was vinable 
to ascend the river on account of the obstructions placed there by the Ameri- 
cans. At the confluence of the Schuylkill and Delaware they had erected 
Port Mifilin, on the opposite side the river. Fort Mercer, while obstructions 
had been sunk in the river, protected by floating batteries and ships. 

Part of the English army having been sent to remove these obstructions 
and convoy provisions, Washington made a well-planned but abortive attempt 
to surprise the camp at Germantown. The army, divided into four columns, 
marched all night, and about sunrise fell upon the enemy, whom they at first 
threw into considerable- confusion. But Colonel Musgrave having thrown 
himself with six companies into a large stone building, known as the " Chew 
Hovise," kept up a destructive fire upon the Americans, and arrested their 



1777.] BRITISH OBTAIN COMMAND OF THE DELA WARE. 453 

victorious career. A thick fog also came on, wliich, further confused the 
movements of the attacking party. Taking advantage of this, the British in 
their turn became the assailants, and completely routed their enemies, who 
lost twelve hundred men in this -unfortunate attempt, while that of the British 
was not above six hundi'ed. "Washington was much criticised for stopping 
to reduce the " Chew House," instead of marching forward, and the unfor- 
tunate result of the business lent arms to those enemies, who were even then 
seeking to deprive him of the chief command. 

A vigorous attempt was now made by Howe to reduce the forts. Having 
removed the obstructions in the river, and taken the works which covered 
them, some ships of war ascended the Delaware to co-operate with the land 
forces. The fort of Red Bank was garrisoned by two Rhode Island regi- 
ments under Colonel Greene, Fort Mifflin by Colonel Smith of the Maryland 
line. 

Twelve hundred men, under the command of Count Donop, crossed the 
river and marched down the opposite bank to attack Red Bank. Greene re- 
tired into the fort, and received the assailants with such a murderous fire of 
musketry and grape, that they were compelled to retreat, with the loss of four 
hundred men and their brave leader. ISTor was the assault of Fort Mifflin by 
the British men-of-war more successful, a sixty -four-gun ship being blown up, 
a frigate burned, and others severely handled. 

Baffled in this first attempt, the British took possession of a small island ad- 
jacent to that upon which Fort Mifflin was built, and thence kept up a tre- 
mendous cannonade, while the ships advanced within a hundred yards, and 
poured their broadsides upon the works. For six days the defenders sustain- 
ed the fury of the assault, repairing by night the breaches made during the 
day, and did not retire until the works were completely untenable. The 
whole force of the enemy was next directed upon Red Bank, which was at 
once evacuated, and thus the British, by the command of the river, and a free 
communication with their fl.eet, were firmly established in Philadelphia. 

The rest of the year passed away in unimportant skirmishes, and Washing- 
ton put his troops into winter quarters at Valley Forge, a deep and woody 
hollow on the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. The condi- 
tion of the army was truly deplorable. It was now the beginning of the severe 
season, and on their march the shoeless soldiers had stained the snow with their 
bleeding feet. On reaching the cold, bleak spot chosen for their encampment, 
they set to work to build a city of log huts, to protect them from the frost and 
■ snow. They were in a state of almost utter destitution. Like Falstafi"'s rag- 
ged recruits, some few had one shirt, some half a one, and the majority none 
at all. There was scarcely a blanket to four men, even straw was wanting, 
and nothing but the frozen ground to sleep upon. Their nourishment was 
always poor and insufficient, and they were often on the very brink of starva- 
tion. Three thousand men were reported as " barefoot and otherwise naked." 
Filth and want produced fever ; the crowded hospital, destitute of every com- 
fort, resembled more a place for the dying than a refuge for the sick ; and the 



454 SUFFERING OF THE AMERICAN ARMY. [1T77. 

soldiers preferred perishing unassisted in their misery, than burying them- 
selves alive in this horrible receptacle — the terror of the whole army. The 
officers, who shared these jDrivations, found themselves, by the depreciation of 
the paper, unable to provide decently for their rank. Many had exhausted 
their private resources, others run into debt, and, finding their position 
insupportable, openly talked of laying down their commissions ; and the 
soldiers, notwithstanding the patriotism which supported them, were frequently 
on the very brink of mutiny. 

The sufferings of his army pierced AVashington to the very soul, and drew 
forth the most pressing appeals to Congress. It is but just to say, however, 
that the ev»il arose from their inexperience rather than their neglect. The 
root of all the evil was the paper money. Contracts had been entered into 
with certain clothiers at Boston, as Congress complained, " at the rate of ten 
to eighteen hundred per cent.," and then only for ready money, " manifest- 
ing " in the contractors " a disposition callous to the feelings of humanity, and 
untouched by the severe sufferings of their countrymen, exposed to a winter 
campaign in defence of the common liberties of their country." These exor- 
bitant prices were, after all, only those to which the depreciation of the paper 
had forced the merchants to resort. IVhere contracts were concluded, such 
was the difficulty of transj)ort, that it was long ere any supplies could reach 
the soldiers, and many were scattered and lost at the very moment when they 
were almost perishing for want. To keep his troops from starving, Wash- 
ington was obliged to force contributions from the reluctant farmers, search the 
neighbourhood for concealed provisions, and intercept convoys destined for 
the enemy at Philadelphia. 

While contending with these complicated difficulties, he was well aware 
that the intrigues which had been long on foot to remove him from the chief 
command, and to appoint Gates in his place, were actively going forward. 
The misfortunes which had attended his arras, compared with the brilliant suc- 
cesses of the conqueror of Saratoga, suggested a most unfavourable comparison. 
Certain officers had long laboured in secret to undermine the confidence of 
Congress, especially General Conway, an active intriguing character, disap- 
pointed in the office of inspector-general to the army. However great 
was the patriotism of Congress, it would have been more than mortal, if free 
from party spirit, or even in some degree from selfish interest. Samuel Adams, 
and certain of the New England members, had always been secretly unfavour- 
able to Washington, his marked confidence in Greene had offended many, and 
Mifflin was offended at the complaints made of his management of the quar- 
ter-master's department. Anonymous letters were freely circulated, accusing 
the commander-in-chief of favouritism and incompetence. One of them, ad- 
dressed to Laurens, the jjresident of Congress, and evidently intended to be 
made public, was transmitted by that gentleman to Washington. 

The reply well evinces his magnanimity under these painful attacks. 
" I cannot sufficiently express the obligation I feel to you, for your friend- 
ship and politeness upon an occasion in which I am so deeply interested. I 



1778.] INTRIG UES TO MAKE GA TBS COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 455 

was not unapprized that a malignant faction liad been for some time forming 
to my prcj iidice ; which, conscious as I am of having ever done all m my 
power to answer the important purposes of the trust reposed in me, could not 
but give me some pain on a personal account. But my chief concern arises 
from an apprehension of the dangerous consequences which intestine dissen- 
sions may produce to the common cause. 

" As I have no other view than to promote the public good, and am unam- 
bitious of honours not founded in the approbation of my country, I would not 
desire in the least degree to suppress a free spirit of inquiry into any part of 
my conduct, that even faction itself may deem reprehensible. The ano- 
nymous paper handed to you exhibits many serious charges, and it is my 
wish that it should be submitted to Conijress. This I 'am the more inclined 
to, as the suppression or concealment may possibly involve you in embar- 
rassments hereafter, since it is uncertain how many, or who, may be privy to 
the contents. 

" My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They know the de- 
licacy of my situation, and that motives of policy deprive me of the defence I 
might otherwise make against their insidious attacks. They know I can- 
not combat their insinuations, however injurious, without disclosing secrets 
which it is of the utmost moment to conceal. But why should I expect to be 
exempt from censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station ? Merit and 
talents, with which I can have no pretensions of rivalship, have ever been 
subject to It. ]\ly heart tells me, that it has been my unremitted aim to do 
the best that circumstances would permit ; yet I may have been very often 
mistaken in the judgment of the means, and may in many instances deserve 
the imputation of error." 

It is uncertain how far Gates himself was concerned in these proceedings, 
but there can be no reasonable doubt that he was perfectly well aware of them. 
His marked disrespect to his superior officer, in neglecting to inform him offi- 
cially of the capture of Burgoyne, is significant of his secret views. If we are 
to rely on the testimony of Dr. Caldwell, the biographer of General Greene, 
he w^as directly implicated in the intrigue. '^ Shortly after the surrender of 
Burgoyne," he observes, " Gates took occasion to hold with Morgan a private 
conversation. In the, course of tills he told him, confidentially, that the main 
army was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of General Washington, 
that the reputation of that officer was rapidly declining, and that several 
officers, of great worth, threatened to resign unless a change was produced 
in that department. Colonel Morgan, fathoming in an instant the views of 
his commanding officer, sternly, and with honest indignation, replied, ' Sir, I 
have one favour to 'ask. Never again mention to me this hateful subject : 
under no other man but General AVashington, as commander-in-chief, will I 
ever serve.' From that time Gates treated Morgan with marked coldness 
and neglect." 

Washington, aware of these manoeuvres, had hitherto treated them with 
dignifi'-d forbearance ; but a regard to his own character now compelled him 



Aoo WASIIINGTOJV 'S EEP UTA TION RE-ESTABLISHED. [1778. 

to bring tlicm to light, and let tlicir authors know that he -was acquainted 
with what was going foi-svard. Accordingly, he wrote to inform Conwav that 
a letter from that officer to Gates had been reported to him, containing the 
following passage : " Heaven has been determined to save your country, or a 
weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it." The plot so long 
working in darkness now exploded, the affair became noised abroad, and with 
it arose a general burst of indignation from the army and people. Gates crept 
out of the business but very lamely. CouAvay, who had been promoted at last 
to the desired post of inspector-general, piqued at being ordered to the northern 
department, offered his resignation; which, to his great vexation, was at once 
accepted. Being afterwards wounded in a duel, and supposing himself at the 
point of death, he addressed to Washington the following letter. " I find 
myself just able to hold the pen during a few minutes, and take this oppor- 
tunity of expressing my sincere grief for having done, written, or said any- 
thing disagreeable to your Excellency. My career will soon be over ; there- 
fore, justice and truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments. You are, in 
my eyes, the great and good man. May you long enjoy the love, veneration, 
and esteem of these States, whose liberties you have asserted by your virtues." 

No wonder that Washington was almost adored by his followers. He felt 
for their embarrassments and privations, and, as they well knew, did all in his 
power to obtain redress. He was painfully aware of the unfounded preju- 
dices against a standing army entertained by Congress, and warmly protested 
against them. " We should all," he said, " Congress and army, be considered 
as one people, embarked in one cause, in one interest, acting on the same 
principle and to the same end." Such suspicions, he pleaded, were the more 
unjust, " because no order of men in the Thirteen States had paid a more sa- 
cred regard to the proceedings of Congress than the army ; for, without ar- 
rogance, or the smallest deviation from truth, it might be said that no history 
now extant can furnish an instance of an army's suffcriiig such rmcommon hard- 
ships as ours has done, and bearing them Avith the same patience and forti- 
tude." But while thus seeking to obtain justice for his brave companions in 
arms, Washington, on the other hand, always set the example of showing the 
utmost respect to constituted authority, and inculcated upon the army a 
religious dependence upon the civil power. And although he had not been 
without detractors, even among Congress, yet, such was their experience of 
his wisdom and prudence, his purity and disinterestedness, and magnanimity, 
in short, his unequalled qualifications for his post, that all attempts to injure 
his good name only served to root him more deeply in their confidence and 
veneration. 

Even among the enemies of his country, the lofty character of Washing- 
ton inspired a generous admiration. After the surrender of Saratoga, the 
captive army of Burgoyne marched to Boston, whence, according to the 
convention, they were to be sent back to England. Congress were but ill- 
satisfied with the terms of the surrender, fearing that the soldiers released 
would be put into garrison to liberate so many others for the war. They 



1778.] BURGOYNE LEAVES AMERICA ON PAROLE. 457 

complained that the cartoucli-boxes of the soldiers had not been surrendered ; 
but Gates himself justified their detention. On the other hand, Burgoyne 
complained that proper accommodations had not been furnished for his 
army, and that Congress had not fulfilled their part of the convention. This 
afforded a ground for ordering that the troops should not be allowed to em- 
bark until the government of Great Britain should have formally ratified 
the convention ; and, on one pretext or another, they were delayed until the 
end of the war. In vain did Burgoyne expostulate, the transports were 
ordered aAvay, and he was compelled to proceed to England alone on parole. 
Before his departure he had occasion to address the commander-in-chief in 
terms expressive of the highest respect. The reply of Washington displays 
his nobility of soul. 

" Your indulgent opinion of my character, (thus he writes to the captive 
general,) and the polite terms in which you are pleased to express it, are 
peculiarly flattering, and I take pleasure in the opportunity you have afforded 
me, of assuring you, that far from suffering the views of national opposition 
to be embittered and debased by personal animosity, I am ever ready to do 
justice to the merit of the man and soldier. I can sincerely sympathize with 
your feelings, as a soldier, the unavoidable difficulties of whose situation for- 
bade his success J and as a man, whose lot combines the calamity of ill health, 
the anxieties of captivity, and the painful sensibility for a reputation, exposed, 
where he most values it, to the assaults of malice and detraction." Burgoyne 
shortly afterward returned to England, and, although not admitted to the pre- 
sence of George III., in an inquiry before the House, amply vindicated his 
military reputation from the attacks that had been made upon it. 



CHAPTER III. 



ALLIANCE WITH FRANCE. — LORD NORTH'S MEASURES OF CONCILIATION. — BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 
— AFFAIR OF NEWPORT. — DESTRUCTION OF WYOMING. — END OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1778. 



AVhen news of Burgoyne's surrender reached the English parliament, it struck 
Lord North and his ministry with dismay, and instantly awakened the vehe- 
ment attacks of the opposition. On the 3rd of December, the day when the 
express arrived, Barre stood up in the House of Commons, and, fixing his 
eye upon the minister, sternly inquired what had become of Burgoyne and 
his gallant army. Bitter indeed was the humiliation of the premier. The 
aged Chatham, though in a state of great debility, poured forth a torrent of 
denunciation, especially against the cruel and disgraceful policy of en- 
gaging the Indians in the quarrel. The secretary of state, having ventured 

3 N 



458 FRANKLIN'S WORK IN FRANCE. [1778. 

to justify the employment of all means that " God and nature had put into 
his hands/' " I know not," he sarcastically retorted, " what idea that lord may 
entertain of God and nature, but I know that such abominable principles are 
equally abhorrent to religion and humanity." Overwhelmed by the disaster 
and the attacks it occasioned, the ministers were glad to obtain a temporary 
respite by moving an adjournment. 

What added infinitely to the peril of the crisis, was the knowledge that 
negociation'5 had been long on foot between the agents of America and the 
court of Louis. Franklin and Lee, ever since their mission, had been 
constantly striving to induce the French openly to espouse their cause. 
Well aware that the i>5sistance of France was given out of no real sympathy 
with American liberty, but solely to humble and weaken the power of 
her hereditary enemy, they were compelled to resort to all the finesse of di- 
plomacy. Hitherto they had laboured in vain to bring the advisers of Louis 
to the desired issue. The support held out was exactly proportioned to the 
tenor of the war ; when the Americans were siiccessful their promises rose, 
when thqy were defeated they fell. This halting policy arose from the un- 
willingness of the French to commit themselves to a deadly struggle with an 
exasperated and powerful enemy, until fully assured that the Americans were 
in some degree able, as well as determined, to maintain their indej^endcnce. 
It was not until the capture of Burgoyne that the French ministry could be 
brought to terminate their vacillating policy, and openly prepare to embrace 
the cause they had long promoted in secret. 

With a view to precipitate a decision, after the surrender at Saratoga 
despatches were sent to England, stating that the Americans, disgusted with 
the temporizing conduct of the French, were ready to conclude a favourable 
treaty of commerce with Great Britain, provided their independence were re- 
cognised. And, in fact, the British ministers were really endeavouring to 
open a negociation with Franklin by means of secret emissaries. One day he 
received a letter begging him to repair at a certain hour to the church of 
Notre Dame, where he would find a man holding in his hand a rose, which 
he would drop by way of signal as soon as Franklin made his appearance. 
This invitation was communicated to the ministry, who ordered the pre- 
fect of police to send a spy in his place. At the appointed time this indi- 
vidual repaired to the church and saw the man with the rose, who, after vainly 
waiting half an hour, suddenly left the building, dived down a number of 
obscure streets to his lodging, and immediately ordered a post-chaise. The 
spy, who had closely tracked him, and had been furnished with means to 
keep up the pursuit, followed him all the way to Calai.9, and saw him embark 
for the shores of England. 

The eyes of Lord North were at length fully opened to the impolicy of 
further hostilities, and he now brought forward a project for conciliation. 
He declared that he had always been opposed to taxing America, but that 
the tea tax was in existence when he came into office, and that he believed 
that the drawback of duty which led to the exportation and destruction of 



1778.] FRANCE PROMISES TO HELP THE AMERICANS. 459 

the tea would be regarded as an actual boon by tlie colonists. When 
provoked by their conduct, he brought in the Coercion bills, he had ex- 
jDccted to have suppressed the insurrection. He had proposed conciliation, 
and when that was impossible, had sent out a force amply sufficient, as he 
believed, to have reduced the colonists to obedience. He had been disap- 
pointed in his expectations. He now proposed to bring in a bill renouncing 
the right to tax America, and appointing commissioners to negociate a return 
to the royal authority. Bitter, if somewhat overstrained, was the sarcasm of 
Fox. " He hoped," exclaimed the indignant orator, " he hoped — and was dis- 
appointed; he expected a great deal, and found little to answer his expectations. 
He thought the Americans would have submitted to his laAVS, and they resisted 
them; he thought they would have submitted to his armies, and they were 
beaten by inferior numbers. He made conciliatory propositions, and he 
thought they would succeed, but they were rejected." It was indeed the 
fate of Lord North always to be a little behind the occasion. When renouncing 
the right of taxation would have satisfied the Americans, he refused it. 
When at length, driven irto a successful rebellion, they were determined to 
assert their independence, and France stood ready to assist them, he weakly 
conceded. And now, with similar infatuation, he refused to acknowledge 
the independence of America, until fresh blood and treasure had been 
lavished in the vain attempt to prevent it. 

As soon as Lord North brought in his bills for conciliation, the French per- 
ceived there was no further time to lose, and shortly after a treaty was formally 
ratified, on the part of France by INI. Gerard, and for the United States by 
Franklin, Deane, and Lee. The ministers of Louis, foreseeing that they 
should probably enter upon a war with Great Britain, agreed not only to 
acknowledge, but support with all their forces, the independence of the United 
States, plainly expecting on their part that, they would never renounce their 
independence, nor resume the yoke of British domination. Official notice of 
this treaty was shortly furnished to the ministry at London, couched in phrase- 
ology at once full of diplomatic formality and secret sarcasm. " In making this 
communication to the court of London, the king is firmly persuaded that it 
will find in it fresh proofs of his Majesty's constant and sincere dispositions for 
peace, and that his Britannic Majesty, animated by the same sentiments, Avill 
equally avoid every thing that may interrupt good harmony, and that he will 
take in particular efifectual measures to hinder the commerce of his Majesty's 
subjects of the United States of America from being disturbed. In this just 
confidence, the under-written ambassador might think it superfluous to apprize 
the British ministry, that the king his master, being determined effectually to 
protect the lawful freedom of the commerce of his subjects, and to sustain the 
honour of his flag, his Majesty has taken in consequence eventual measures, 
in concert with the United States of North America." " It was one of tliose 
shrewd turns," says Botta, " which are not unusual among princes in their 
reciprocal intercourse ; it was also one of those, which they are not accustomed 
to forgive." 

3 N 2 



430 CHATHAM'S LAST SPEECH IN PABLIA2IENT. [1777. 

At this momentous crisis, when the field of hostilities was Avidening, and 
the nation seemed about to enter single-handed upon a struggle of which no 
one could foresee the issue, two opposite courses, the one suggested by pride, 
the other by prudence, divided the opinions of the legislature. The advocates 
for acknowledging the independence of America, dwelt upon the folly and 
madness of protracting a struggle, already so disastrous, now that France had 
thrown the weight of her power and influence into the opposite scale. But it 
was this very consideration that inflamed the animosity of the British nation, 
and determined them never, at the intervention of a hated rival, to surrender 
the point in dispute. " Shall France then find us so tame," said the minister of 
war, " to abandon om- possessions, and yield up to her all our ancient glory, 
— we, who have the time still fresh in memory, when, after having by victory 
upon victory trampled upon her pride, and prostrated her power, we triumph- 
antly scoured the seas and the continent of America ? " Such too were the 
sentiments of Lord Chatham, now sinking into the grave under the weight of 
seventy eventful years. From the first he had been the advocate of concession, 
and had often lifted up, though in vain, a warning voice against the infatua- 
tion of the ministry ; but now that it was proposed to concede independence to 
the colonists, he dragged himself to his place in parliament, and spent his last 
strength in protesting against what he considered to be so disgraceful and so 
dishonourable a sm-render. 

" I have made an effort," said the sinking patriot, " almost beyond the powers 
of my constitution, to come down to the House on this day to express the in- 
dignation I feel at an idea, which I understand has been proposed to you, of 
yielding up the sovereignty of America. My Lords, I rejoice that the grave 
has not closed upon me, — that I am still alive to lift up my voice against the 
dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy ! Pressed down, as 
I am, by the hand of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this 
most perilous conjuncture- but, my Lords, while I have sense and memory, 
I will never consent to deprive the royal offspring of the house of Brunswick, 
the heirs of the Princess Sophia, of their fairest inheritance. 

" Where is the man that will dare to advise such a measure ? His Majesty 
succeeded to an empire as great in extent as its reputation was unsullied. 
Shall we tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its 
rights and fairest possessions ? Shall this great kingdom, that has survived, 
whole and entire, the Danish depredations, the Scottish inroads, and the Nor- 
man conquest, that has stood the threatened invasion of the Spanish armada, 
now fall prostrate before the house of Bourbon ? Surely, my Lords, this na- 
tion is no longer what it was ! Shall a people that, seventeen years ago, was 
the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient inveterate 
enemy, Take all we have, only give us peace ! It is impossible. In God's 
name, it is absolutely necessary to declare either for peace or war, and if the 
former cannot be preserved with honour, why is not the latter commenced 
without hesitation ? I am not, I confess, well informed of the resources of 
this kingdom ; but I trust it is sufficient to maintain its just rights. But, my 



1778.] ENTHUSIASM IN THE AMERICAN ARMY. 461 

Lords, any state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort ; and i 
if we must fall, let us fall like men ! " 

Such were the last words ever uttered in parliament by this illustrious 
patriot. lie listened impatiently to the reply of the Duke of Richmond, and 
burned to continue the discussion ; but the excitement had exhausted his 
feeble frame, he attempted several times to arise, but in vain, and at length 
staggered and swooned upon his seat. The Duke of Cumberland and several 
other members rushed forward, and conveyed him into a neighboiiring 
room. Amidst the confusion and grief occasioned by this painful incident, 
the House adjourned. The veteran statesman, who may be said to have died 
at his post_, since his remaining strength was exhausted by this final effort, 
expired four days afterwards, amidst the general grief of parliament and the 
whole people. 

The king, loudly protesting against the perfidy and insolence of France, 
threw himself upon the spirit of the nation, which was not slow to answer the 
summons. Urgent preparations were made to meet this new foe. Mortified 
by their ill success with the Americans, the English indemnified themselves 
by the hope of wreaking vengeance upon their ancient rivals. Indescribable, 
on the other hand, was the enthusiasm with which the news of the treaty with 
France was received in America. Forgetting hereditary animosities, the name 
of King Louis was in everybody's mouth. AVith the powerful aid now pro- 
mised, independence seemed already within their grasp. By none was the 
news more warmly welcomed than by the army of Washington, still encamped 
at Valley Forge, where by his strenuous labours their condition was by this 
time much ameliorated. To quote the words of an eye-witness — " Wednesday 
was set apart as a day of general rejoiciiig, when we had a feii de joie, con- 
ducted with the grea,test order and regailarity. The army made a most bril- 
liant appearance. After which his Excellency dined in public, with all the 
officers of his army, attended with a band of music. 1 never was present when 
there was such unfeigned and perfect joy, as was discovered in every coun- 
tenance. The entertainment was concluded with a number of patriotic toasts, 
attended with huzzas. AVlien the general took his leave, there was a uni- 
versal clap, with loud huzzas, which continued till he had proceeded a quar- 
ter of a mile, during which time there were a thousand hats tossed in the air. 
His Excellency turned round with his retinue, and huzzaed several times." 
Amidst the intoxication of joy, the army lost sight of the toils and sufferings 
that yet awaited them. 

The situation of the British army, shut up in Philadelphia, had now be- 
come exceedingly precarious, as the arrival of a French fleet might shortly 
be expected in the Delaware. Sir William Howe, disgusted at the want of 
efficient co-operation from ministers, had returned to England, and the 
office of chief command now devolved upon Sir Henry Clinton. Finable 
to find transports to convey his entire army, he was compelled to march by 
land to NcAV York, which he had chosen as a more defensible position. 
Washington now called a council of his officers^ at which it was debated 



4Jj2 battle of MONMOUTH. [1778. 

•whctlier tliey should confine their operations to harassing" and impeding his 
retreat, or venture upon a general action. The subject was still under dis- 
cussion, when news arrived, on the morning of the 18th of June, that Plowe 
had evacuated the city. 

Having crossed the Delaware, the English army, encumbered with an im- 
mense convoy of baggage, pushed on for the high grounds of Middlcto-svn. 
Washington resolved to intercept it before it could get there, and ordered 
Lee, who had the command of the vanguard, to commence an attack, " unless 
he should see strong reason to the contrary," promising to come up and sup- 
port it with the rest of the army. Clinton, seeing himself thus menaced, 
judiciously transferred his baggage to the front, and to cover its march, took 
post in the rear, with the principal part of his troops. 

The weather was intolerably close and sultry, the country sandy and almost 
destitute of water, and the march of both armies under a burning sun was so 
distressing that many of the horses were killed ; and during the ensuing action, 
nearly sixty British soldiers and many Americans perished from the combined 
effects of heat and fatigue alone. On the morning of the 28th of June, Lee 
prepared to attack the British, who had encamped at Monmouth Court 
House, when in order to give time for the latter to get beyond his reach, 
Clinton suddenly faced about upon his pursuer. Disconcerted by this unex- 
pected move, with little confidence in his American troops, and finding his 
ground unfavourable for defence, Lee was in the act of falling back with his 
troops upon a better position, when Washington came up tc his support. 
Exasperated at this apparent flight, he addressed himself very M^armly to Lee, 
and immediately exerted himself to retrieve the fortune of the day. The 
whole American rear coming up, a warm but indecisive action followed. The 
English occupied a strong position, covered by marshes and ravines, and 
night came on before Washington was able to dislodge them ; he kept the 
soldiers under arms, and slept in his cloak upon the field, intending to renew 
the attack at daylight. But Clinton had already effected his object — his 
convoy was already out of reach, and carrying off his wounded, during 
the night he stole off as silent as the grave. Next morning he rejoined his 
baggage on the heights of Middletown, beyond the danger of further 
pursuit. Thovigh he had lost but about three hundred men in this battle, 
upwards of a thousand, who had married in Philadelphia, deserted during 
the march. Clinton now marched his army to Sandy Hook, and embarking 
on board the fleet of Admiral Howe, was carried to New York. Only a few 
days after he had thus effected his retreat, a French fleet, under D'Estaing, 
with a body of four thousand troops, and bearing M. Gerard, ambassador to 
the United States, arrived off the mouth of the Delaware. Had not this 
armament been an unusual length of time on the passage, it is hardly to be 
doubted that Clinton's army, hemmed in at once by the French and Ameri- 
cans, must have surrendered like that of Burgoyne. 

Finding that the English had escaped, D'Estaing now sailed after them, 
but on reaching Sandy Hook, the pilots refused to take his heavier ships 



i::8.] LEE DISMISSED THE AMERICAN SERVICE. 463 

across the bar. This circumstance disconcerted a projected attack against 
New York by the French forces and those of Washington, who, after the 
battle of INIonmouth, had crossed the Hudson to White Plains. Unable to 
effect his designs, D'Estaing transferred the scene of hostilities to Newport, 
in Rhode Island, then occupied by four thousand English troops. A fcAV 
days after his departure, four British men-of-war appeared off the Hook, 
which, had he remained, must have fallen into his hands. Thus seasonably 
reinforced. Admiral Howe sailed to Newport, in pursuit of the French fleet. 

The day after the battle of Monmouth, Lee, who could ill brook the point- 
ed rebuke of Washington, wrote to him in high terms to demand an explanation. 
The tone of Washington's reply increased his irritation, and he retorted 
in terms of greater exasperation. He was soon after tried by court-martial 
for disobedience of orders, for making a shameful retreat, and for disrespect 
to his commanding officer. He defended himself with much skill, and 
opinions were much divided as to his liability to blame. He was, however, 
condemned upon all the charges excepting only the term shameful, and sus- 
pended for one year, though it was not without hesitation that Congress rati- 
fied the decision. He appears to have considered himself an ill-used man, and 
afterwards giving way to irritation in a correspondence with Congress, was 
finally dismissed the Am^erican service, his connexion with v/hich seems to 
have been unfortunate from the beginning. 

To co-operate with the attack on the English in Rhode Island, a call had 
beei\ made upon that State, as well as Massachusetts and Connecticut, for five 
thousand fresh militia. The appeal was responded to with great spirit, and 
John Hancock marched at the head of the Massachusetts recruits. On the 
29th of July D'Estaing appeared with his fleet, and was received with the 
greatest enthusiasm by the combined American and French troops. An at- 
tack was immediately projected upon General Pigot, who withdrew into a 
strong position near Newport. Several days however were lost in waiting for 
the militia, and an incident now occurred, which caused the whole project to 
prove abortive. 

On the afternoon of the 9th of August, Howe appeared with his squadron 
off the harbour, and on the following morning D'Estaing sailed out of it to 
encounter him, carrying off the troops who were to have co-operated in the 
attack. A desperate sea-fight was now imminent, and the whole day was spent 
in preliminary manoeuvres. But at night there came on a violent hurricane, 
still remembered as the " great storm," which lasted for forty-eight hours, and 
scattered the hostile fleets. The French admiral's flag-ship was rudderless 
and dismasted, when she was attacked by a British frigate, and nearly cap- 
tured. Other partial encounters took place during the fury of the tempest, 
which however too effectually crippled both fleets to enable them to carry out 
their hostile design. Howe regained New York to refit, while D'Estaing re- 
appeared with his shattered vessels at Newport, where the Americans were 
anxiously expecting his arrival. They no'W urged him to refit his ships in 
their harbour, and to co-operate in their attack upon the English. But his 



40 i LOBD NORTH SENDS COMMISSIONERS TO AMERICA. [1778. 

officers so strenuously chvelt upon tlie tenor of his instructions, wliicli were, 
in case of injury, to refit at Boston, tliat in spite of all remonstrances, he insisted 
on repairing to that port. The Americans were deeply chagrined, that their 
French allies should have thus forsaken them at the pinch, and Sullivan sarcas- 
tically said, in his general orders, that he " could by no means suppose the 
army or any part of it endangered by this movement." He was however 
soon compelled to retreat, and take post on some hills at the northern extre- 
mity of the island, when, after sustaining a warm engagement with the Brit- 
ish, he skilfully evacuated the island. He was only just in time. The very 
next day Admiral Howe, who had vainly endeavoured to cut the French ships 
out of Boston, returned with a reinforcement of four thousand troops under 
Sir Henry Clinton. 

New York was now the only strong post in the possession of the English ; 
and thus, to use the words of Washington, " after two years' manoeuvring, 
and undergoing the strangest vicissitudes that perhaps ever attended any one 
contest since the creation, both armies are brought back to the very point 
they set out from, and the offending party in the beginning is now reduced 
to the use of the spade and pickaxe for defence. The hand of Providence 
has been so consj)icuous in all this, that he must be worse than an infidel that 
lacks faith, and more wicked, that has not gratitude enough to acknowledge 
his obligations." 

During the progress of the campaign, Lord Carlisle, Eden, and Johnstone, 
the commissioners sent by Lord North, to effect, if j)ossible, a pacification, 
had been actively, but vainly, engaged in their office. On their arrival at 
Philadelphia on the 9th of June, General Clinton asked Washington for a 
passport for Doctor Ferguson, their secretary, in order that he might person- 
ally deliver his despatches to Congress. This, however, Washington prudently 
declined to grant, and the despatches of the commissioners were sent by post. 
They desired a suspension of hostilities while a final settlement Avas effected, 
on the basis that no military force shoidd be kept in the colonies without their 
consent, that the right of taxation should be given up, and that a representation 
of America should be made in pai'liament. They promised to sustain, and 
finally pay ofif the paper money. Every inducement, short of the recognition 
of independence^ was held out, to induce the colonists to return their allcgi* 
ance. But if, when relying upon their own strength alone, they had refused 
to listen to such overtures, they were not likely to do so when they were assured 
of the support of France. They returned the same answer as before, that 
the recognition of independence was the only ground on which they could treat 
with Great Britain. In vain did the commissioners endeavour to argue the 
case, the resolution of Congress was unshaken. They could not however but 
look with great uneasiness upon the presence and mana^uvres of the British 
agents. For three months the latter continued to exhaust every artifice to under- 
mine the decision of Congress, and to engage influential individuals in their 
cause. Johnstone, who had all along opposed the policy of ministers, professed 
the greatest admiration for the leaders of the revolution, and in certain letters 



1778.] CRUELTIES OF THE BRITISH TROOPS. 465 

to INIorris, Reed, and Dana, suggested tliat those who shouhl bring about a recon- 
ciliation, would justly be regarded among the benefactors of mankind, hinting, 
moreover, that ample rewards would not fail to be showered upon them. General 
Reed also declared that an offer had privately been made to him, on the part 
of Johnstone, of £10,000, and any office he might choose in the colonies, if he 
would make use of his influence in the cause ; to which proposal he replied, 
*' that he was not worth purchasing, but, such as he was, the king of England was 
not rich enough to buy him." Hereupon Congress passed resolutions refusing 
to hold any further communication with the commissioners. The latter now 
used every effort to promote dissension among the republicans, and offered the 
same terms to the separate States that they had already proj^osed to Congress, 
disseminating through the country publications reflecting upon the conduct 
of that body, which Avere vigorously rej)lied to by the ablest Avriters on the 
j)opular side. At length, throwing the guilt of further hostilities upon Con- 
gress, they threatened, if submission were not made within forty days, that the 
war should henceforth assume a sanguinary and desolating character. But 
artifice and menace were alike employed in vain, and at the expiration of the 
appointed term the baffled commissioners returned to England. 

Their threats, however, were not, unhappily, idle, and regarding the ob- 
stinacy of the rebels as putting them in the position of outlaws, the royal 
officers henceforth behaved to them with unmerciful severity. New Bedford, 
and Fairhaven, and other places, which had become shelters for American 
p)-ivateers, were burned, and the neighbourhood ravaged. Baylor's regiment 
of cavalry, while asleep in a barn at Tappan, were surprised, no quarter given, 
and ruthlessly put to death with the bayonet. To these severities of the 
English troops, were shortly added the darker atrocities of their Indian allies. 

The Tory corps under Johnson and Butler, and the Indians under Brant, 
hung upon the western frontiers of New York and Pennsylvania, ready to 
fall upon the first place exposed to their depredations. Among these, 
hemmed in with extensive forests, was the lovely valley of Wyoming, on the 
Susquehanna, which has derived a classic interest from the muse of Camp- 
bell. This district had furnished a large contingent to the continental army, 
and Avas thus almost unprotected, Avhen it was. menaced with a terrible visita- 
tion. Early in the spring, about eight hundred men, composed of British 
regulars, Tories, and Brant Avith four hundred of his Indians, under the com- 
mand of Colonel Butler, suddenly made their appearance in the valley. The 
republicans, inferior in number, Avere placed in a most distressing alternatiA'e. 
Should they aAA'ait an attack, it was contended that their enemies, who were 
increasing in number, would raA'age the settlement and carry off the harA'est, 
upon which their existence depended ; Avhile, should they A^enture to attack 
them with inferior forces, a defeat Avould produce certain destruction to the 
settlement, death to themseU'es, and captiA'ity, perhaps torture, to their avIa'cs 
and children. The most desperate counsel at length prcA^ailed, and they 
marched out to attack the enemy, but Avere routed Avith great slaughter. A 
few, who had throAvn themselves into a fort, Avere obliged to capitulate, on 

3 



466 MASSACRE OF THE PEOPLE OF WYOMING. [1778. 

honourable terms ; but no sooner liacl Colonel Butler retired Tvith his troops, 
than the Indians, unrestrained, committed the most atrocious barbarities. 
The village of Wilksbarre was burnt, men and their wives separated and car- 
ried into captivity, and the settlement given up to devastation. The re- 
mainder of the inhabitants were driven from the valley, and compelled to 
proceed on foot sixty miles through a swampy forest, almost without food or 
clothing. Great numbers perished in the journey, chiefly of women and chil- 
dren ; some died of their wounds ; others wandered from the path in search 
of food, and were lost ; and those who survived, called the wilderness, through 
which they passed, the " Shades of Death," an appellation which it has ever 
since retained. 

The " History of Wyoming," from which we gather these details, gives the 
foUoAving hideous anecdote. " A considerable number of the inhabitants of 
the different settlements on the Susquehanna, who, from their attachment to 
the British cause, were denominated Tories, joined the British and the savage 
troops previous to the battle, and exhibited instances of the most savage bar- 
barity in the manner in which they carried on the war against their former 
neighbours and friends. One instance may serve to shoAv the desperate feel- 
ings which those times produced. A short distance below the battle-ground, 
there is a large island in the river, called ' Monockonock Island.' Several 
of the settlers, while the battle and pursuit continued, succeeded in swimming 
to this island, where they concealed themselves among the logs and brush- 
wood upon it. Their arms had been thrown away in their flight, so that they 
were in a manner defenceless. Two of them irf particular were concealed 
near and in sight of each other. While in this situation, they observed 
several of the enemy, who had pursued and fired at them while they were 
swimming the river, preparing to follow them to the island with their guns. 
On reacliing the island, they immediately wiped their guns and loaded them. 
One of them, M'ith his loaded gun, soon passed close by one of these men, who 
lay concealed from his view, and was immediately recognised by him to be 
the brother of his companion who was concealed near him, but who, being 
a Tory, had joined the enemy. He passed slowly along, carefully examining 
every covert, and directly perceived his brother in his place of concealment. 
He suddenly stopped and said, * So it is you, is it?' His brother finding 
that he was discovered, immediately came forwards a few steps, and falling on 
his knees, begged him to spare his life, promising to live with him and serve 
him, and even be his slave as long he lived, if he would only spare his life. 
' All this is mighty good,'' replied the savage-hearted brother of the suppli- 
cating man, ' hut you are a d d rebel ; ' and deliberately presenting his 

rifle, shot him dead upon the spot. The other settler made his escape from 
the island, and having related this fact, the Tory brother thought it prudent 
to accompany the British troops on their return to Canada." 

A Pennsylvania regiment avenged the fall of Wyoming, by the destruction 
of Unadilla, a village belonging to Indians and refugees. The loyalists re- 
torted, by destroying Cherry VaUey. About the same time, Clarke, a back- 



1778.1 EFFECTS OF THE FRENCH ALLIANCE. 467 

■woodsman of Kentucky, assisted by tKe State of Virginia, undertook a daring 
and successful enterprise against the western Indians. Having enlisted two 
hundred men, he descended the Ohio, and joined by some Kentuckians, 
penetrated the wilderness and surprised Kaskasia, one of the old French set- 
tlements on the Mississippi, which the English agents were attempting to 
stimulate to hostilities. The conquered territory was erected by the Vir- 
ginians into the county of Illinois. 

The rest of the season wore away without any incidents of importance. 
Hitherto the co-operation of their French allies had effected little for the Ame- 
ricans, unless by operating as a check upon the movements of the English. 
Disgust at D'Estaing's retreat from"Newport had led to a revival of the old 
slumbering antipathy, and quarrels broke out between the French and Ame- 
rican sailors at Boston and Charleston. The alliance also had the effect 
of discouraging public and private enterprise. Considering by this means 
the final success of their cause to be fully assured, and exhausted with a 
long-protracted struggle, the Americans began to languish, grow weary, 
and shrink from the sacrifices required of them. The recruiting of the 
army proceeded but slowly, and the greatest difficulty was, experienced in 
providing for its wants. The dire^necessity that existed for fresh emissions of 
paper money had led to a train of deplorable consequences. All attem23ts to 
sustain its value had proved abortive, a single dollar in cash was worth eight, 
and sometimes twenty, of the colonial bills, and the mischief was still further 
increased by the immense quantity of forged notes introduced by the loyalists. 
Prices, as a matter of course, rose enormously, and a wide field was open to the 
operations of specidators and contractors, a body of whom had grown up and 
enriched themselves amidst the distresses of their country. None were greater 
sufferers than the army by this state of things ; supplies were so high that in 
Carolina a single pair of shoes cost 700 paper dollars, and the pay of privates 
and officers was insufficient for more than bare necessaries. " I would to God," 
said Washington, speaking of the speculators, " that some one of the more 
atrocious in each State was hung in gibbets upon a gallows five times as high 
as the one prepared for Haman. No punishment, in my opinion, is too severe 
for the man who can build his greatness upon his country's ruin." 

Congress too was at this time divided by party spirit, and inflamed with 
disputes respecting their diplomatic agents abroad. A general languor and 
indifference prevailed. No decisive operations had been performed during 
the year. The British had gained no ground, and the French and Americans 
had been unable to expel them. 

One object of importance was however accomplished. The Articles of Con- 
federation, which had been agreed on by Congress, and submitted to the legis- 
latures of the separate States, were now ratified by all the States except New 
Jersey, DelaAvare, and Maryland, which withheld their consent until 1781, 
when certain modifications had been effected. 



3 o 2 



468 THE BRITISH OBTAIN POSSESSION OF GEORGIA. [1779. 



CHAPTER IV. 



CAMPAIGN OF 1779. — REDUCTION OF GEORGIA. — STATE OF THE SOUTH. — STORMING OF STONT 
POINT. — PEPULSE OF D'ESTAING AT SAVANNAH. — AFFAIRS IN CONGIiESS. — PAUL JONES. — EN- 
CAMPMENT IN THE HIGHLANDS. 

Having, with a vast expenditure of men and money, utterly failed to sub- 
due the northern or middle colonies, the British generals now turned their 
attention to the south ; being chiefly encouraged to do so, by the far 
greater want of union and predominance of Tory influence among the 
population. 

The first blow was struck in Georgia. On the 28th of December, Colonel 
Campbell, sent from New York with three thousand British troops, appeared 
before Savannah, which could only be approached by a long causeway, leading 
across a deep and impassable morass. General Howe, with a feeble corps of 
eight hundred Americans, placed himself between the morass and city, and 
prepared to make a gallant defence. But a negro having informed Campbell 
of a by-path, by which he could gain the rear of the Americans, he was thus 
enabled to attack them on both sides at once, make prisoners of half the detach- 
ment, and obtain possession of the city. General Prevost, then placed over the 
British troops in East Florida, having been ordered to assume the command, 
hastened to Savannah, having on his way reduced the post of Sunbury. 
Augusta was also captured, and thus the whole of Georgia fell at one stroke 
into the power of the invaders. 

The success of the British now emboldened their partisans to come forward. 
Seven hundred North Carolina royalists were marching across the country, 
when they were attacked by a body of republican militia, and a fierce en- 
counter ensued. As hostilities proceeded, the state of the country became 
fearful. When parties of Whigs and Tories met in civil conflict, " they 
seemed," to quote the vivid language of Caldwell, '' to fight for extermina- 
tion, rather than victory. This was the case, at least, in small partisan aflEairs,^ 
which, from the nature of the contest, were more numerous in the southern 
than in the northern States. Another circumstance, which added much to 
the bloodshed and desolation of the times, was, that the population of those 
States was more equally divided than elsewhere between royalists and ad- 
herents to the cause of freedom, or, as they were commonly called, Whigs and 
Tories. From this were engendered, in their most terrific form, that mutual 
animosity and deadly hate, which always characterize civil wars, and usually 
convert them into systematized scenes of assassination and rapine." Much as 
the northern colonies had suffered, and still had to endure, from the miseries 



1779.] DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY BY THE BRITISH. 469 

of civil conflict, it was in the southern States that they were to be experi- 
enced in their fellest and most deadly extreme. 

General Lincoln, having been sent to supersede Howe, took post with 
fourteen hundred men opposite Augusta, compelled the British to evacuate 
that place, and pursued them as far as Brier Creek. Here, however, his suc- 
cess was fatally reversed. Prevost, by making a wide circuit, suddenly threw 
himself upon his rear, killed or wounded four hundred Americans, and cap- 
tured his cannon and baggage, with a loss of only about half a dozen of his 
own men. Lincoln, however, still kept the field, and retired towards Augusta, 
leaving a thousand men to guard the Lower Savannah. Prevost drove all 
before him, and, encouraged by Tory support, even ventured to march upon 
Charleston ; but when Lincoln returned to its defence, was compelled to fall 
back to Savannah, burning and ravaging, on his way, the houses and property 
of the leading republicans. 

True to their threat, that the war should henceforth assuine a severer 
character, the British despatched a marauding expedition into Virginia. 
General Matthews, with a squadron and army, ascended the Chesapeake, took 
Portsmouth and Norfolk, captured or burned a hundred and thirty merchant 
vessels and several unfinished ships of war, and carried oflT an enormous 
booty. The damage inflicted by this expedition was estimated at not less 
than two millions of dollars. *' "What sort of war is this ? " asked the Vir- 
ginians of the British. " It is thus," was the reply, " we are commanded to 
treat all, who refuse to obey the king." 

Another similar expedition was undertaken by Tryon and Garth against 
the sea-coast of Connecticut, the ports of which had sent forth a large num- 
ber of privateers, cutting off the British merchantmen, and intercepting sup- 
plies from reaching the British at New York. On landing, the royal com- 
manders issued an address, setting forth the lenity which the people had 
experienced from his Majesty's officers, and the ungrateful return made for it, 
adding, that " the existence of a single house on their coast, ought to be a 
constant proof of their ingratitude, that they who lay so much in the British 
power, afforded a striking monument of their mercy, and ought therefore to 
set the first example of returning to their allegiance." However justifiable, 
in a military sense, such an expedition might have been, nothing could ex- 
cuse the ruthless barbarity with which it was carried out. As, far from sub- 
mitting, the militia offered what resistance was in their power, Newhaven 
was ravaged and pkmdered, Fairfield and Norwalk set on fire, and the de- 
struction of nearly two hundred buildings and five churches, with mills and 
shipping, marked the devastating path of the invaders. To inspire a feeling 
of terror, by striking examples of severity, and by inflicting upon the obstinate 
republicans all the miseries of civil war, had now become the vindictive 
policy of the British government. 

While these affairs were proceeding, Clinton ascended the river with a 
strong force, and took the forts at Verplanck's Point and Stony Point. As 
the works in the Highlands were now seriously menaced, "Washington 



470 CAPTURE OF STONY POINT BY THE A3IERICANS. [1779. 

planned an expedition to recover Stony Point, wliicli was executed with 
great gallantry, by General Wayne, on the night of July 15th, and was indeed 
one of the most dashing exploits of the revolutionary war. 

Stony Point, as its name implies, is a rocky promontory, washed on three 
sides by the Hudson, and accessible on the other only across a morass, de- 
fended by two lines of ahattis and outworks. Stealing with the utmost 
secrecy through the woods, the party near midnight reached the edge of the 
morass, where Wayne divided his forces into two columns, who were to as- 
sault the works at as many different points. A forlorn hope, under Lieu- 
tenants Gibbon and Knox, preceded them to remove the obstructions. The 
men were ordered to make use of the bayonet alone. They were not discovered 
imtil within pistol-shot, when the alarm was given, the drum beat to arms, and 
amidst the darkness and confusion a heavy fire immediately opened on the 
assailants. Nearly all the forlorn hope perished, but in spite of resistance 
the Americans broke through the bai'riers and carried all before them. Wayne 
was struck down on his knees by a ball, and believing himself mortally 
•wounded, exclaimed, as his aide-de-camp assisted him to rise, " March on ! 
carry me into the fort, for I will die at the head of my column ; " — he was, how- 
ever, enabled to proceed with his men. The two columns gained the centre 
of the works at the same moment, with loud huzzas of triumph, and the gar- 
rison were compelled to surrender at discretion. Wayne's brief note to 
Washington is characteristic. " The fort and garrison, with Colonel Johnson, 
are ours. Our ojfRcers and men behaved like men who are determined to be 
free." In memory of this brilliant exploit. Congress voted medals to General 
Wayne, Captain de Fleury, and Major Stewart. To maintain the post long 
was, however, impossible, and after the destruction of the works, the cannon 
was put on board a galley to be removed to West Point, but was sunk by an 
unlucky shot from the enemy's batteries on the other side of the stream. 

Another action of great spirit was the surprise of Paulus Hook, opposite 
New York, by Colonel Lee, and the capture of the garrison, thus carried off 
almost within sight of the head-quarters of Sir Henry Clinton. These suc- 
cesses, although in themselves of little importance, served to keep up the 
spirits of the American army and people, and to check aggressive operations 
on the j)art of the British troops. 

The war now embraced both hemispheres, and the ocean that separated 
them; and the operations on the soil of America were comparatively insig- 
nificant. The islands of the West Indies became the theatre of conflict, 
and the prize for Avhich the navies of France and England contended. Before 
D'Estaing reached those waters with his fleet, Dominica had fallen into the 
hands of the French, commanded by the Marquis de Bouille, while the Eng- 
lish had taken St. Lucie. Having in vain sought to bring D'Estaing to a 
general action, Byron sailed to convoy home the West Indiamen, during 
which interval D'Estaing, reinforced by several ships, made the conquest of 
Grenada. Scarcely was this effected, when the English ships returned, and a 
warm but partial engagement took place, which, as his Disponent was com- 



> if ■* r 




^ 






17T9.] D'ESTAING FAILS TO TAKE SAVANNAH. 471 

pelled to retire, D'Estalng considered a victory. According to the tenor , 
of his orders, he ought now to have returned home with the x^rincipal part of 
his fleet, but having received the most pressing letters from America, com- 
plaining of the abortive issue of the attack on Newport, and urging him not 
to retire until he had assisted in expelling the enemy from Georgia, he de- 
termined to comply witli this request. On the 1st of September, he appeared 
off Savannah, and having sent word of his arrival to General Lincoln at 
Charleston, a combined American and French force soon afterward prepared 
to invest the city. 

D'Estaing now imperiously summoned Prevost to surrender, in the name of 
the King of France. The English general, anxious to gain time, artfully 
protracted the negociation till Colonel Maitland had returned, with the rest of 
his troops, when he set the besiegers at defiance. He had laboiu'cd so inces- 
santly to strengthen the fortifications, that regular approaches became neces- 
sary, and the works were pushed on till the third of October, when the place 
was bombarded with the utmost fury. Prevost begged that an asylum might 
be granted to the suffering women and children, on board a French ship, till 
the issue of the siege was decided, but this request was rudely refused. No 
impression whatever was made upon the works, and D'Estaing, with his fleet 
exposed on the coast during the stormy season, and liable to be attacked at 
disadvantage by the English, felt unwilling to remain until the approaches 
could be carried to completion, and was compelled to hazard an assault. The 
French and American columns, headed by D'Estaing and Lincoln, advanced 
to the attack with mutual emulation, but so desperate was the resistance of the 
besieged, and so well served their artillery, that after a terrible slaughter, 
amidst which Count Pulaski met his fate, the assailants were compelled to re- 
tire, and precipitately abandon the siege. The unfortunate issue of this affair 
deepened the disgust already inspired by the abortive attack on Newport. 

Another deplorable reverse was experienced this season by the State of 
Massachusetts. A small British force having established themselves on the 
Penobscot, an armament of nineteen ships, carrying a body of fifteen hundred 
militia, Avere sent to dislodge them, under the command of General Lovell. 
Finding that the enemies' works were too strong to be taken by the force at his 
command, Lovell sent back for reinforcements. While waiting for them he 
was surprised by five British men of Avar, which burned the vessels, and scat- 
tered the troops, who had to make their Avay in small parties through a path- 
less wilderness, before they reached the confines of civilization. 

During these unfortunate operations Congress was distracted by a variety 
of anxious business. AVlien the treaty with France was concluded, the right 
had been reserved for Spain to become a party to it, by virtue of a family com- 
pact between the Bourbon princes. It was but rekictantly that the Spanish 
monarch embraced the quarrel. Although participating the desire of the French 
king for the humiliation of cheir common enemy. Great Britain, he witnessed 
with anxiety the spread of republican principles upon the American continent, 
which, if finally victorious, might prove a contagious example for his own 



472 DIFFICULTY IN FIXING TERMS WITH FRANCE. [1779. 

colonies. Having however, determined to cast in liis lot with France, it next 
became his object to extort the best terms from the necessities of the Ameri- 
cans. The French ambassador, M. Gerard, vaunted the advantages of this 
new connexion, which could not fail to give an overwhelming weight to the 
American scale. In return for the joint assistance of France and Spain, he 
endeavoured to obtain for the latter the concession of the Floridas, a large 
tract, east of the Mississippi, and the exclusive right to navigate that river. 
For his own court, he sought to induce Congress to give ixp the fisheries 
of Newfoundland. He argued also, that it would be expecting too much of 
the pride of Great Britain, formally to acknowledge the independence of her 
revolted colonies, and that the Americans ought, like the Swiss and Dutch, 
to be content with a tacit and indirect admission of it. These unreasonable 
terms, militating, as they did, against the interest of the separate States, oc- 
casioned a lengthened, and often an angry discussion. What one was disposed 
to concede as indifferent, another was determined to retain as vital. Massa- 
chusetts could not surrender the northern fisheries, Virginia required the free 
navigation of the Mississippi. Eventually the claims were compromised; 
Florida was given up to Spain, the other matters left undecided; but upon 
one point the Americans Avere inflexible — that the war should be maintained 
until their independence was formally acknowledged and ratified. 

Bitter disputes had also arisen concerning the conduct of the foreign 
agents. Silas Deane, who, it will be remembered, was originally sent out in 
the character of a private merchant, to open negotiations with France, and 
through whose hands almost all the business of the commissioners had after- 
wards passed, had lately returned on board the French squadron. Accused, 
as it would seem unjustly, of malversation, by Arthur Lee, formerly agent at 
London, he was as warmly defended by Morris, the principal financier, and 
others. Congress was divided into opposite factions, and recriminatory 
writings inflamed the dispute. In one of these, by Thomas Paine, allusion 
was made to the secret arrangement between Beaumarchais and Lee, by 
which, under the guise of commercial transactions, munitions of war had been 
sent from the French arsenals to assist the Americans. The French ambas- 
sador complained of this statement as affecting the honour of his court, though 
there can be little doubt that the statement was, at least, partially true, and 
in consequence an express disavowal was put forth by Congress. Amidst 
the complexity of transactions, some of them secret, much confusion of ac- 
counts had arisen, by which Deane, against Avhom no charges could be estab- 
lished, and Avho seems to have involved his own fortune, was ultimately the 
sufferer. Unable to obtain the verification or discharge of a debt due to him 
by Congress, he 'sunk into great distress, and was overAvhelmcd with un- 
merited obloquy, an example of the fate that often befalls one sustaining a 
critical and delicate office in unsettled and trying times. 

As a plausible pretext for hostilities, Spain now proposed to mediate be- 
tween the contending parties, offering terms, which, as she Avas well assured 
they would be, were rejected by Great Britain. Having completed her 



1779.] SPAIN DECLARES WAR AGAINST ENGLAND. 473 

nayal preparations, she then put forth a long list of alleged grievances, and 
openly declared war. Galvez, the Spanish governor of New Orleans, imme- 
diately invaded Florida, and Avith an overwhelming force speedily reduced 
all the British posts, with the exception of Pensacola. 

To check incursions on the part of the Tories and their Indian allies, 
General Sullivan Avas sent with a considerable force against Fort Niagara, 
their head-quarters. Ascending the Upper Susquehanna, and routing on the 
way a force, under Brant, the Butlers, and Johnson, he penetrated the 
forests into the valley of the Genesee, hitherto unvisited, but exhibiting a far 
higher degree of civilization than it was supposed the Indians had then at- 
tained. Orchards of ancient growth, corn-fields, and well-built timber-houses, 
attested a long and quiet occupation of the soil. This smiling scene was con- 
verted into a wilderness by the invaders, in the hope that starvation would 
compel the Indians to retire to a greater distance. It was, however, found 
impossible to reach Niagara, and Sullivan returned with his brigade to 
Easton, in Pennsylvania. No permanent relief was produced by this inroad, 
the Indians soon returned with increased fury, and the frontier was kept in a 
state of excitement until the termination of the war. 

The coasts of Great Britain, had, in the meanwhile, been menaced with the 
same calamities which she was inflicting on those of America. A formidable 
fleet of French and Spanish ships appeared in the British Channel, to humble 
that overgrown naval power, become the object of their hatred and their 
fears. But this second Armada, dispersed by tempests, and dispirited by 
sickness, proved as unfortunate as the first, and was obliged to retui'n home 
without having accomplished its intended purpose. 

The dauntless spirit of the English rose with the perils that threatened to 
overwhelm them. Their cruisers had greatly crippled the infant American 
navy, and diminished the number of privateers. Some few hardy spirits, 
however, not only kept the sea, but ventured to affront the enemy, even 
within his own waters. Of these men, the most remarkable was Paul Jones, 
a native of Scotland, and originally brought up to the sea, which profession 
he relinquished, in order to settle in Virginia. When the war broke out, 
he obtained a commission, and in command of the Ranger, infested the 
English coasts, making sudden descents on the land, cutting out vessels, 
taking prizes, and spreading a general consternation. His exploits obtained 
him the command of a small squadron, fitted out in France, consisting of 
the " Bonhomme Richard," a forty-two gun ship, the " Alliance " and " Pallas " 
frigates, and other smaller vessels. With this armament, he ventured into 
Leith roads, in chase of a ship of war, but was driven out to sea by a gale, 
and continued his cruise along the eastern coast of Britain. On the 2ord of 
September, when off Flamborough Head, the Baltic fleet of merchantmen 
hove in sight, convoyed by the " Serapis " of forty-four guns, under Captain 
Pearson, and "Countess of Scarborough" of twenty guns. The two heavy 
frigates immediately prepared to engage, while the merchantmen endeavoured 
to make good their retreat to the coast. 

3 P 



474 PAUL JONES' VICTORY OFF FLA3IB0R0UGH HEAD. [1779. 

About seven in the evening, "vvhen quite dark, tlie two ships began the 
conflict with a furious cannonade. Ahnost at the outset, some of Jones's 
heavy guns burst and killed the men who served them ; his sailors refused to 
work the others, and thus he was reduced to his smaller artillery alone. A 
pause taking place in consequence, Pearson hailed to ask if his adversary had 
struck, to which Jones replied, that he had not yet begun to fight. Find- 
ing, in fact, that in his crippled state he stood no chance against the heavier 
metal of the " Serapis," he adopted the sole, but desperate, expedient open to 
him, of falling on board his more powerful adversary. As the failure of a 
manoeuvre brought the ships together, Jones, with his own hand, lashed them 
fast, and commenced the deadly grapple for victory or death. The British 
attempting to board, were repulsed, but their lower guns, pointed against the 
main deck of the " Richard," did fearful execution, tearing away the Avhole in- 
side of the ship, and driving the men above. Unable to maintain the conflict 
below, the American crew ascended into the tops, and thence kept up a 
deadly fire upon the deck of the " Serapis." A grenade thrown from the end 
of the main-yard, lighting upon some combustibles, occasioned a fearful ex- 
plosion, by which nearly sixty of the English sailors were killed or disabled, 
and the rest driven down into the hold. At this moment the " Alliance" came 
to assist her consort, but in the darkness and confusion, fired into her by mis- 
take. The American ship, thus riddled through by the balls of both friends 
and enemies, was supposed to be sinking ; the prisoners were released, and 
one of them made his way on board the " Serapis," and declared that the 
*' Richard " could no longer maintain the combat. In fact, the gunner actually 
went to haul down the colours, but they had been accidentally shot away. 
Both ships were on fire, and in the darkness of the night presented a spectacle 
of awful sublimity. A second time did Pearson demand if the "Richard" 
had surrendered. Jones sternly replied. No ! but the English caj^tain, not 
having heard him, supposed the combat was ended, called ofl" his boarders, and 
prepared to take possession of his prize. Jones, however, continued to fight 
desperately on ; until the main-mast of the " Serapis " being shot away, her 
men driven below, and the " Alliance " also preparing to attack him ; the 
gallant Pearson, who, during the action, had never quitted the deck, was com- 
pelled to haul doAvn his colours. But the triumph of Jones was of short 
duration, his own ship was rapidly filling, and shortly afterwards went down. 
The " Countess of Scarborough" was captured by the two American frigates. 
Jones, in the dismasted " Serapis," was driven about in the North Sea, at the 
mercy of wind and tempest, till he succeeded in gaining the Texel with his 
prizes. Thus terminated one of the most singular and desperate conflicts 
recorded in the annals of naval warfare. 

During the campaign, Washington remained with his troops in the neigh- 
bourhood of the Highlands, where the new fortifications of West Point were 
being rapidly carried to completion. His position and force were too strong 
to enable Sir Henry Clinton to attack him, his own too weak to hazard an at- 
tack upon New York, and he wisely avoided all attempts to draw on a general 



1779.] LETTER FROM WASHINGTON- TO LAFAYETTE. 475 

engagement. Yet, althougli prevented from mingling in active operations, 
he was still the directing soul of distant movements, and continually engaged 
in correspondence. Some of his most interesting letters, at this period, are 
to Lafayette, who had returned to France, in order to obtain fresh succours 
for the Americans. An extract from one of these will exhibit the general 
position of affairs. " We are happy," thus it runs, " in the repeated assurances 
and proofs of the friendship of our great and good ally. We also flatter our- 
selves, that before this period the kings of Spain and the two Sicilies may 
be greeted as allies of the United States; and we are not a little pleased to 
find, from good authority, that the solicitations and offers of the court of 
Great Britain to the empress of Russia have been rejected ; nor are we to 
be displeased, that overtures from the city of Amsterdam, for entering into a 
commercial connexion with us, have been made in such open and pointed 
terms. Such favourable sentiments, in so many powerful princes and states, 
cannot but be considered in a very honourable, interesting, and pleasing point 
of view, by all those who have struggled with difficulties and misfortunes, to 
maintain the rights and secure the liberties of their country. But, notwith- 
standing these flattering appearances, the British king and his ministei's con- 
tinue to threaten us with war and d'^oOiation. A few months, however, must 
decide whether these or peace is to take place. For both we will prepare ; 
and, should the former be continued, I shall not despair of sharing fresh toils 
and dangers with you in America ; but, if the latter succeeds, I can entertain 
little hopes that the rural amusements of an infant woi'ld, or the contracted 
stage of an American theatre, can withdraw your attention and services from 
the gaieties of a court, and the active part you will more than probably be 
called upon to share in the administration of your government. The soldier 
will then be transformed into the statesman, and your employment in this neAV 
"walk of life will afford you no time to revisit this continent, or think of 
friends who lament your absence." Amidst the tiresome detail of battles and 
sieges, it may be a relief to turn to the head-quarters at West Point, and by 
quoting a letter from Washington to Dr. Cochran, show the style in which 
the great man lived, and in which he could sometimes unbend from his 
oppressive anxieties. 

" \Q>th August. 

"Dear Doctor, 

I have asked Mrs. Cochran and Mrs. Livingston to dine with me 
to-morrow, but am I not in honour bound to apprize them of their fare ? 
As I hate deception, even where the imagination only is concerned, I will. 
It is needless to premise that my table is large enough to hold the ladies. 
Of this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it is usually covered, 
is rather more essential, and this shall be the purport of my letter. 

" Since our arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham, sometimes a 
shoulder of bacon, to grace the head of the table, a piece of roast beef adorns 
the foot, and a dish of beans, or greens, almost imperceptible^ decorates the 
centre. When the cook has a mind to cut a figure, which I presume will be 

2 p 2 



4TG DEPRECIATION OF PAPER MONEY. [1779. 

the case to-morrow, we have two beef-steak pies, or dishes of crabs, in addi- 
tion, one on each side of the centre dish, dividing the space, and reducing the 
distance between dish and dish to about six feet, which without them would 
be nearly twelve feet apart. Of late he has had the surprising sagacity to 
discover that apples will make pies, and it is a question, if, in the violence of 
his efforts, we do not get one of apples, instead of having both of beef-steaks. 
If the ladies can put up with such entertainment, and will submit to partake 
of it on plates, once tin, but now iron, (not become so by the labour of scour- 
ing,) I shall be happy to see them, and am, dear Doctor, 

Yours." 

This forced inaction was far from being agreeable to Washington, and in 
the hope that Count D'Estaing would return to the north, after his abortive 
visit to Newport, the French ambassador had repaired to head-quarters, to 
concert an attack upon New York, by the combined French and American 
forces. The season, however, wore away without the appearance of D'Estaing, 
and the failure of his attack on Savannah put an end to this plan, which 
always remained a favourite one -vvith Washington. 

The state of the army had been muo]i improved since the last winter, by 
the strenuous labours of General Greene, who had reluctantly undertaken 
the important, but ungrateful, office of quarter-master-general. Loud com- 
plaints were, nevertheless, made of the enormous expense of his department, 
and it was with difficulty he was prevailed on to serve a little longer. By 
the depreciation of the paper money, prices were now nominally enormous. 
The first issues made by Congress had never been redeemed, and they had 
now put into circulation notes to the amount of two hundred millions of 
dollars. Forty of these paper dollars were, at this time, worth but one in 
specie. The attempt to regulate prices was abortive, a serious riot taking 
place upon this ground in Philadelphia. To bolster up the credit of the 
paper, it was made legal tender for debts contracted at specie prices ; the 
fraudulent and embarrassed took this means of paying their debts, and Wash- 
ington himself suffered from this species of legal swindling. Owing to these 
causes, and to the early approach of winter, the army began to experience the 
distresses of the last. " For a fortnight past," said Washington, in his letter 
to the magistrates of New Jersey, " both officers and men have been almost 
perishing for want. They have been alternately without bread or meat the 
whole time, with a very scanty allowance of either, and frequently destitute 
of both. They have borne their sufferings with a patience that merits the 
approbation, and ought to excite the sympathy, of their countrymen." Such 
was the distress, that Washington was obliged, for a while, to call \\\)0\\ the 
States to furnish specific supplies of grain and cattle for his suffering troops. 

As far as the north was concerned, the results of the year are well summed 
up in a letter from Washington to his friend Lafayette, who had returned for 
a while to France. " The o^ierations of the enemy, this campaign, have been 
confined to the establishment of works of defence, taking a post at King's 



1779.] CLINTON ARRIVES IN GEORGIA. All 

Ferry, and burning the defenceless towns of New Haven, Fairfield, and 
Norwalk on the Sound, within reach of their shipping, where little else was, 
or could be oj^posed to them, than the cries of distressed women and chil- 
dren, but these Avere offered in vain. Since these notable exploits, they have 
never stepped out of their works, or beyond their lines. How a conduct of 
this kind is to effect the conquest of America, the wisdom of a North, a 
Germaine, or a Sandwich, can best decide. It is too deep and refined for 
the comprehension of common understandings, and the general run of po- 
liticians." 



CiEAPTER V. 



CAMPAIGN OF 1780.— CAPXrRE OF CHARLESTON.— STATE OF THE SOUTHERN PROVINCES.— HATTLE 
OF CAMDEN. — ARRIVAL OF THE FRENCH UNDER ROCHAMBEAU. — TREASON OF ARNOLD AND EX- 
ECUTION OF ANDRE. — FRANKLIN AT PARIS. — ARMED NEUTRALITY. 



As soon as Sir Henry Clinton was assiired that D'Estaing had departed with 
his fleet, he recalled the troops in occupation of Newport, and leaving a body 
in New York more than sufficient to keep Washington in check, embarked 
with the rest of his forces for Savannah, carrying with him a corps of cavalry, 
which it Avas judged could operate to advantage in the level plains of the 
south. His passage was very tempestuous ; the fleet dispersed, one of his 
ships foundered, another was captured, and the horses were lost. At length 
the scattered armament assembled on the shores of Georgia. 

Clinton had hoped to strike a blow at Charleston before time could be 
gained for its defence, but his design was discovered by the prisoners on 
board the captured ship, and the delay occasioned by refitting his damaged 
vessels enabled the Carolinians to prepare for defence. To stimulate them 
to the utmost. Congress promised a large reinforcement, but with the utmost 
exertions could detach a mere handful to their assistance. It was proposed to 
raise and arm a regiment of slaves, but to this plan the planters had an in- 
superable objection ; six hundred negroes, however, directed by French 
engineers, were made to labour upon the fortifications, which were rendered 
extensive and formidable. The militia were summoned, on pain of forfeiting 
their property, but, as the small-pox was known to be raging in the city, only 
two hundred ventured to come forward. The whole force, of all sorts, at the 
command of General Lincoln, was far from adequate to defend so extensive a 
place. The assembly, under the urgency of the circumstances, had invested 
Governor Rutledge with " the poAver to do every thing necessary for the 



478 SURRENDER OF CHARLESTON TO THE ENGLISH. [1780. 

public good, except taking away the life of a citizen," and the most inde- 
fatigable efforts were made by him to put the city into a posture of defence- 
Advancing along the coast, Clinton invested the city by land, and on the 
first of April began to form regular approaches. Four American and two 
French frigates, with some smaller vessels, defended the harbour, but the 
English ships ran past Fort Moultrie with very trifling loss, and stationed 
themselves within cannon-shot of the city, which was thus menaced by sea and 
land at once. 

The only communication of the town with the country was kept up by two 
regiments of horse under the command of General Huger and Colonel Wash- 
ington, stationed in a strong position at Monks' Corner, defended by a morass 
and causeway. Clinton detached Lieutenant-Colonel Webster, one of his 
best officers, to surprise this important post. He was accompanied by Fergu- 
son and Tarleton, the latter a brilliant cavalry ofiicer, as rapid, impetuous, and 
dashing in his enterprises, as he was ruthless and implacable in the treatment 
of his enemies. Conducted by a negro, whom they had captured, about three 
in the morning the English came suddenly on the Americans, cutting them 
to pieces with great slaughter, Huger and Washington with difficulty effect- 
ing their escape. The besieged were thus entirely enclosed, and the sur- 
rounding country overrun by the English. 

Soon after Fort Moultrie, so celebrated in the former abortive attack by 
the British, invested on all sides, was compelled to surrender without firing a 
shot. Clinton, having completed his third parallel, bombarded the city, and 
a second time summoned Lincoln, in order to avoid the horrors of an assault. 
The American general had been desirous of evacuating the city, but this de- 
sign proved impracticable ; he had next, finding his position untenable, 
offered to capitulate on terms which Clinton had refused, and he was now, at 
the request of the citizens, compelled to surrender, on condition that his troops 
should become prisoners of war, and the militia retire unmolested on the 
promise to take no further share in the quarrel. Thus Charleston, after 
a siege of forty-two days, fell into the power of the English. Lincoln was 
much blamed for allowing himself to be enclosed in the city, and not extri- 
cating himself when resistance became hopeless. But he justly replied, that 
it was intended to defend the place, and that the assistance promised by Con- 
gress had never been forthcoming. 

Scarcely had Clinton taken Charleston, than he vigorously prepared to 
quench the dying embers of opposition to the royal cause, and encourage its 
friends to come forward. He sent off three expeditions, one towards Au- 
gusta, another towards Camden, and a third under Tarleton against a Vir- 
ginian regiment led by Colonel Buford, who on learning the fall of Charles- 
ton, and of the force sent against him, commenced a rapid retreat. He had 
already gained so much time, that pursuit seemed hopeless, but the fiery 
Tarleton promised to reach him. Many of his horses dropped dead 
with fatigue, but by pressing others, after a forced march of a hundred 
and five miles in fifty-four hours, on the 29th of May, at a place called 



1780.] CLINTON SUBDUES SOUTH CAROLINA. 479 

the Waxliaws, he suddenly appeared before the panic-stricken fugitives. 
Though taken by surprise, Buford refused to surrender, and hurriedly 
threw his men into line, desiring them to reserve their fire till the enemy 
were close upon them. A few men were brought down, and Tarleton 
had his horse shot under him, but the cavalry burst upon the republicans 
with such imjaetuosity, that they were instantly broken, and a terrible car- 
nage commenced. Deaf to their cries for mercy, and fancying their leader 
slain, the infuriated horsemen cut down the unresisting Americans ; a hun- 
dred and thirteen were butchered on the spot, and of two hundred prisoners 
the greater part were desperately wounded, though the English colonel de- 
clared that the survivors Avere humanely attended to. This ruthless treat- 
ment obtained among the republicans the proverbial appellation of Tarleton s 
quarter. The other detachments found nothing to oppose their progress, and 
thus the whole of South Carolina was reduced to the royal sway. 

The province being thus subdued. Sir Henry Clinton published an amnesty, 
offering full pardon to all who should return to their duty, except '' only those 
who had imbrued their hands in the blood of their fellow-citizens." But it 
was not his intention to allow the inhabitants to observe a peaceful neutrality, 
Not content with a mere nominal submission, he compelled all parties ojDcnly 
to espouse the royal cause, and arm themselves for the purpose of " driving," 
as he chose to call them, " their rebel oppressors, and all the miseries of the 
war, far from the province." Moreover, releasing the American prisoners 
from their parole, he now required them to take up arms against the cause 
they had so lately defended. Deep was the indignation of the Carolinians, 
but exposed to be treated as rebels if they refused, the majority were obliged 
to dissimulate, and comply with the bitter requisitions of their conqueror. 
Sir Henry Clinton, having thus established a hollow and treacherous tran- 
quillity, returned to New York with a part of his forces, leaving behind four 
thousand men under Lord Cornwallis, the most able and enterprising 
officer in the royal service in America. 

This policy of the British, by compelling the neutral to choose sides, ex- 
citing the hopes of the Tories, and exasperating the fury of the Whigs, car- 
ried to its height the party spirit with which the southern States were already 
divided. The wealthy planters were mostly ardent republicans, as were the 
Scotch, Irish, and backAvoodsmen. The Highlanders and Regulators were 
Tories, while the Quakers, Dutch, and Germans were disposed to be quiet 
and peaceably submit to the invaders. A fearful picture of their dissensions 
is given by the biographer of Greene. 

*' With dispositions as fell and vindictive as all the sanguinary passions 
could render them, neighbour was reci^^'ocally arrayed against neighbour, 
brother against brother, and even father against son. Neither in the dark- 
ness of the night, the enclosures of dwelling-houses, the depths of forests, 
nor the entanglements of the swamps and morasses of the country, was 
security to be found. Places of secrecy and retreat, being known alike to 
both parties, afforded no asylum ; but were oftentimes marked with the most 



480 CR UEL TIES ENA CTED BY BOTH SIDES. [1780. 

shocking barbarities. The murderer in his ambush, and the warriors in their 
ambuscade, being thus in the daily perpetration of deeds of violence and 
blood, travelling became almost as dangerous as battle. Strangers, of whom 
nothing was known, and who appeared to be quietly pursuing their journey, 
were oftentimes shot down, or otherwise assassinated, in the public road. 
^^Tiole districts of country resembled our frontier settlements during the 
prevalence of an Indian war. Even when engaged in their common con- 
cerns, the inhabitants wore arms, prepared alike for attack or defence. 

" But this was not all. The period was marked with another source of 
slaughter, which added not a little to its fatal character. Participating in 
the murderous spirit of the times, slaves, that were in many places numerous 
and powerful, rose against their masters, armed with whatever weapon of de- 
struction accident or secret preparation might supply. In these scenes of 
horror, the knife, the hatchet, and the poisoned cup were indiscriminately 
employed. Some whole families were strangled by their slaves, while, by 
the same hands, others were consumed amid the blaze of their dwellings in 
the dead of night. 

" These dispositions in the population generally, inflamed by the ardour 
and urged by the force of southern passions, were sublimed to a pitch, to 
which the more temperate people of the north were strangers." 

ISIany anecdotes might be multiplied to exemplify this horrid spirit, which 
the policy of the British was fanning into fiercer activity, but the following one 
may well suffice. It must be admitted that the republicans too often drew down 
upon themselves severe reprisals for their intolerant cruelty to the royalists. 
In the hoiir of festivity one Brown had indulged himself in indiscriminate 
censure of the revolutionary party. He had done worse — he had ridiculed 
them. He was pursued, brought back to Augusta, tried before a committee 
of surveillance, and sentenced to be tarred and feathered and carted, unless 
he recanted and took the oath of allegiance required by the administration of 
Georgia. Brown was a firm man, and resisted with a pertinacity which 
should have commanded the respect of his persecutors. But the motions of 
a mob are too precipitate to admit of the intrusion of generous feeling. 
After undergoing the painful and mortifying penance prescribed by the com- 
mittee without yielding, it is too true that he was doomed to have his naked 
feet exposed to a large fire, to subdue his stubborn spirit ; but in vain, and he 
was at length turned loose by a group of men, who never deemed that the 
simple Indian trader would soon reappear, an armed and implacable enemy. 
He first visited the loyalists of Ninety-six, concerted his measures Avith them, 
then made his way to St. Augustine, received a colonel's commission, placed 
himself at the head of a band of desperate refugees, and accompanied Prevost 
in his irruption into Georgia. lixS thirst for revenge appeared afterward in- 
satiable, and besides wantonly hanging many of his prisoners, he subjected 
the families of the Whigs who were out in service to accumula<"ed sufterings 
and distresses. It was not long after he Avas left in command at Augusta by 
the British general, that Colonel Clarke, with a determined party of the 



1780.] THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 481 

militia, whose families lie had persecuted, ahiied a well-directed blow at his 
post. But Brown proved himself a man of bravery and conduct, and he well 
knew that at all times he was fighting for his life. After a severe and par- 
tially successful contest, the apj)roach of a party of Indians obliged Clarke 
to retreat and leave his wounded behind him, with a letter addressed to 
Brown, requesting that he would parole them to their plantations. But 
Brown's thirst for revenge knew no bounds. It had been irritated in this 
instance by a wound that confined him to his bed. The unhappy prisoners, 
twenty-eight in number, were all hung ; thirteen of them were suspended to the 
railing of the staircase, that he might feast his eyes with their dying agonies." 

The war in the south, with the exception of one or two battles, consisted of 
a series of skirmishes, surprises, and partisan encounters, carried on with an 
inconsiderable force on both sides, over a wide extent of unhealthy country, 
intersected with rivers and marshes, and with a sultry, scorching climate, but 
displaying as much gallantry, skill, and adventure on both sides, as the oper- 
ations of a larger army on a more conspicuous field of action. In these 
" terrible campaigns," as the British officers called them, both armies suffered 
the extremity of heat, fatigue, and destitution. The patriots, unable to grapple 
with the superior forces of their enemy, retired into the impenetrable recesses 
of the swamps and pine barrens, under the leadership of a few heroic sj)irits 
called forth by the dreadful emergency. Such men were Generals Marion and 
Sumpter ; the former a native of South Carolina. He was of small stature 
and attenuated frame, but capable of almost superhuman endurance, famed 
for his feats of horsemanship, and, like Claverhouse, he rode a fleet and power- 
ful charger, so that in pursuit nothing could escape, and when retreating 
nothing overtake him. " For stratagems," says Caldwell, " unlooked-for en- 
terprises against the enemy, and devices for concealing his own positions and 
movements, he had no rival. The tract of country over which he reigned, 
the trust and safeguard of his friends, the terror of his foes, and the astonish- 
ment of every one, aboimded in thickets, morasses, and swamps. To those 
deep and dreary solitudes he was often obliged to retreat for safety when 
severely pressed by an overwhelming force. On these occasions, to pursue 
him into his fastnesses was as useless as it was dangerous. Never, in a single 
instance, was he overtaken or discovered in his hiding-place, unless he volun- 
tarily faced his pursuers, in which case, such was his selection of time and 
position, as to make victory certain. Even some of his own party, anxious 
for his safety, and well acquainted with many of the places of his retreat, 
have sought for him whole days in his immediate neighbourhood, without 
finding him. Suddenly and unexpectedly, on some distant point, he would 
again appear, pouncing on his enemy like the falcon on his quarry." 

Paulding narrates, that " on one occasion a British officer with a flag, pro- 
posing an exchange of prisoners, was brought blindfold into his camp. The 
exploits of Marion had made his name now greatly known, and the officer felt 
no little curiosity to look at this invisible warrior, who was so often felt, but 
never seen. On removing the bandage from his eyes, he was presented to a 

3 q, 



483 LIFE OF GENERAL MARION. [1780. 

man rather below the middle size, very thin in his person, of a dark com- 
plexion, and Avithered look. He was dressed in a homespun coat that bore 
evidence of flood and field, and the rest of his garments were much the worse 
for wear. 

'^ ' I came,' said the oflicer, ' with a message for General Marion.' ' I am 
he,' said Marion, ' and these are my soldiers.' 

" The officer looked round, and saw a parcel of rough, half-clothed fellows, 
some roasting sweet potatoes, others resting on their dark muskets, and others 
asleep with logs for their pillows. 

" The business being settled, the officer was about to depart, when he was 
rather ceremoniously invited by Marion to stay and dine. Not seeing any 
symptoms of dinner, he was inclined to take the invitation in jest ; but on 
being again pressed, curiosity as well as hunger promjDtedhim to accept. The 
general then ordered his servant to set the table and serve up dinner ; upon 
which the man placed a clean piece of pine bark on the ground, and raking 
the ashes uncovered a quantity of sweet potatoes. These constituted Mari- 
on's breakfasts, dinners, and suppers, for many a time that he watched the 
flame of liberty in the swamps of South Carolina. 

" Tlie soldier of Britain returned to his commander with a serious, nay, 
sorrowful countenance; and on being questioned as to the cause, made this 
remarkable answer — 

" ' Sir, I have seen an American general, his officers and soldiers serving 
without pay, without shelter, without clothing, without any other food than 
roots and water — and they are enduring all these for liberty ! What chance 
have we of subduing a country with such men for her defenders ?' It is said 
he soon after threw up his commission and retired from the service, either 
in consequence of a change in his feelings, or of hopelessness in the success 
of the cause in which he had engaged." 

The loyalists of North Carolina were anxious to join the victorious English, 
but Cornwallis urged them to gather their crops and remain quiet until the 
autumn, when he would march to their assistance. Unwilling to wait, two 
large bodies put themselves in motion, but one only succeeded in its design, 
the other being attacked and routed. Meanwhile, such forces as Washington 
could venture to detach were on their way to the south under the command 
of Baron de Kalb. Their progress was toilsome and difficult, and they could 
only subsist by stray cattle caught in the woods, and Indian corn from the fields, 
on their line of march. At length tliey came to a halt on Deep river, where 
General Gates#soon afterward arrived to assume the command. The name of 
the conqueror of Saratoga, it was justly supposed, would tend to raise the 
dejected spirits of the Carolinians. Joined by various bodies of militia, he 
proceeded across a barren country, where the soldiers had to subsist on un- 
ripe peaches and green corn, towards Camden, where Cornwallis had placed 
magazines with a force under the command of Lord Eawdon, who finding 
matters assuming a serious aspect, drew in his outposts and sent notice of his 
situation to Charleston. At the approach of the American army the activity 










Sd 



4 



1780.] GATES DEFEATED IW THE BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 483 

of the partisan-chiefs redoubled. Sumpter surprised the British detachments 
at Kocky Mount and Hanging Rock, while Marion harassed their outposts. . 
Gates's army had now mcreased to six thousand men, of whom but a fourth, 
however, were regular troops, and with this inferior force he prepared to 
assume hostilities. The hopes of the patriots were excited with sanguine 
expectations of triumph, destined, however, to be speedily and bitterly over- 
throAvn. 

At the news of Gates's approach, Cornwallis, who had with him but two 
thousand men, hastened from Charleston. As he could not retreat without 
surrendering the recent conquests, and was confident in the superiority of his 
troops over the militia of Gates, with his characteristic decision he determined 
not to await, but anticipate his attack. 

On the same night Gates and Cornwallis both -left their encampment, the 
former intending to take up a strong offensive position near Camden, the 
latter to surprise the Americans ; and, about two in the morning of the 
6th of August, the two armies unexpectedly encountered each other in 
the woods. After a sharp skirm.ish the British drove in the Americans, but 
darkness suspended the combat for a Avhile. At dawn, the line having been 
formed, the battle Avas renewed. At the first shock the Virginian militia, 
composing the American left, broke and fled, in spite of all the efforts of Gates 
to rally them, and left the brunt of the attack to be sustained by the small 
body of regulars under the brave De Kalb, who, after receiving eleven wounds, ' 
fell, mortally wounded. Tarleton now dashed in with his cavalry, and com- ' 
pleted the discomfiture. For nearly thirty miles he pursued and cut doAATi 
the fugitives with unrelenting fury, and the road was strewn with the traces of 
the routed army. Nine hundred men were killed and as many taken prison- 
ers, the rest scattered as they were able into the woods ; baggage and artillery 
fell into the hands of the conquerors. The army of the south was utterly j 
broken up, except the detachment under Sumpter, Avho had intercepted a con- 
voy and made two hundred prisoners, but on hearing of the disaster retreated 
with the utmost speed. Supposing himself out of danger, Sumpter halted to : 
recruit his tired troops, when Tarleton burst into the camp, having carried on ' 
the pursuit with such fearful rapidity that half his men broke down upon the 
road. The convoy and prisoners were recovered ; a large number of the Ame- 
ricans were slaughtered or captured ; a few, among whom was Sumpter him- 
self, were fortunate enough to escape into the woods. 

Indescribable was the panic occasioned by this deplorable rout. The cry 
of " Gates is defeated " ran like wild-fire through the country, and at the 
sight of his broken and fugitive legions consternation was depicted upon every 
countenance. The discomfited general did all in his power to retrieve a loss 
so fatal to his own reputation; and retreating to Salisbury, and thence to 
Hillsborough, gradually re-organized his shattered ranks, and, reinforced by 
small bodies of regulars and militia, again advanced to the south, and took 
post at Charlotte with the nucleus of another army. But, by a single reverse, 
he was unjustly deprived of the confidence of Congress, who ordered an 

3^2 



484 GREENE TAKES COMMAND OF TEE ARMY. [1780. 

inquiry into his conduct, and required Washington to name his successor. 
Without a moment's hesitation he appointed General Greene, an officer 
in whose abilities, fortitude, and integrity, from an intimate experience of 
them, he had the most entire confidence, to this important and responsible 
command. On his way to the camp, Greene concerted with the governors of 
the several States the best measiires for furnishing their quotas of troops and 
supplies', and on the 2nd of December arrived at the head-quarters of the 
army. Gates received his successor with the greatest magnanimity, frankly 
communicated all the information in his power, and then set out for the north, 
never again to appear in the field. " His long and dreary journey," says 
Johnson, " was a true picture of lost favour and Mien greatness. No eye 
beamed on him with a cordial welcome, no tongue saluted him in accents of 
kindness. He was every where met with frowns or indifference, neglectful si- 
lence or murmured censure. All recollected in him the fugitive from Camden ; 
no one recognised the victor of Saratoga." Yet his wounded feelings were 
somewhat soothed by an address from the Virginia legislature, assuring him 
*' that the remembrance of his former glorious services could not be obliterated 
by any reverse of fortune." 

Cornwallis, immediately after his victory at Camden, would willingly have 
profited by the terror of his arms to carry the war into North Carolina, but 
the oppressive heat of the season and his want of adequate supplies compelled 
him reluctantly to return to Charleston. Here he followed up his victory by 
measures calculated to strike terror into the ranks of the republicans. Such of 
the militia as, having once submitted, were again found in arms were hanged 
without mercy, and the property of those who had a second time been 
found assisting the rebels was confiscated. Several of the principal inhabitants 
of Charleston, accused of violating the parole given at the surrender by cor- 
responding with the enemy, were sent prisoners to St. Augustine. Such pro- 
ceedings might indeed for a while quell the spirit of active revolt, but only by 
deepening the detestation of the conquered, and inspiring them with the 
determination to rise and turn upon their oppressors at the first propitious 
moment. 

Having, by the beginning of October, completed his preparations for 
marching into North Carolina, Cornwallis advanced with his main army 
towards Charlotte, detaching Tarleton with his cavalry up the west bank of 
the Catawba, and INIajor Ferguson, an able and resolute officer, by a more 
westerly route, along the eastern foot of the mountains. A principal object of 
this detachment Avas to organize the loyalists in that quarter, who, on joining 
the British standard, committed the most atrocious outrages upon the repub- 
licans. A terrible retribution awaited them. A large body of backwoodsmen 
from Tennessee and Kentucky, all daring and determined men, mounted and 
armed with rifies, which they handled with unerring pre/;ision, proceeded 
in quest of Ferguson. Carrying their provisions and blankets on their 
backs, they kept up the chase with such vigour that in thirty-six hours 
they dismounted but twice. On the 9th of October they overtook Ferguson, 



1780.] DEFEAT AND DEATH OF MAJOR FERGUSON. 485 

who had retired to the top of a hold and woody eminence called King's 
mountain. Forming in several columns tliey climbed the rugged ascent, 
and posting themselves behind rocks and trees, kept up a galling fire upon 
the royalists. "Whenever they ventured to advance they were fiercely 
driven back by the bayonet, but only to renew the deadly conflict from 
behind their covert. At length Ferguson, who had in vain been sum- 
moned to surrender, fell, sword in hand, mortally wounded, and the re- 
mainder, their spirit broken, were compelled to throw down their arms. 
Ten of the more obnoxiou.s loyalists were hung on the spot in retalia- 
tion for their recent outrages, adding to that spirit of mutual revenge 
which, as Greene said in his despatches, " threatened to depopulate the 
country." 

This afiair, which greatly raised the drooping spirits of the patriots, proved 
also an important check to Cornwallis, who, deprived of the co-operation of 
Ferguson, was compelled to make a retrograde move. It had also the effect 
of paralysing the movements of an auxiliary force of three thousand men 
under General Leslie, which had entered the Elizabeth river and taken post 
at Portsmouth, in order to co-operate in the attack against North Carolina. 
Considei'ing himself noAV unsafe, Leslie returned to Charleston to effect a junc- 
tion with Cornwallis. Marion and Sumpter also redoubled their activity, but 
were kept in check by Tarleton and his cavalry. With his usual celerity he 
pursued Sumpter to a strong position at Blackstock-Hill, and attacked him 
with great impetuosity, but was repulsed with considerable loss. Sumpter, 
severely wounded and unable to resume the command, was carried by his 
faithful followers into a secure retreat. 

"With these operations in South Carolina came to a close the year seventeen 
hundred and eighty. The royal generals had displayed consummate ability 
and vigour, all the strongholds of the country were in their hands, and they 
had a force at their disposal sufficient to maintain these conquests. But no- 
thing could be more precarious than a military occupation of this sort ; — a 
country may be indeed overrun, but cannot be long held, where the spirit oi 
freedom is intrenched in the hearts of its citizens. Depressed and exhausted 
by the bloody struggle, the embers of resistance were not quenched. Vir- 
ginia and North Carolina were sending such assistance as they were able to 
spare, and the master-mind of Greene, unappalled at the greatness of his 
task, was occupied in organizing a new army, and meditating upon the best 
tactics to protract the struggle and weary out a powerful and victorious 
adversary. 

For the sake of clearness, we have narrated continuously those events 
in the south, which were spread over the entire course of the year. 
"We must now turn our attention to the northern States, where, during 
this interval, occurrences of the most momentous interest had also taken 
place. 

At the opening of the season "Washington's forces, at Middlebrook and 
the Higlilands, were still occupied in watching those of the enemy at New 



480 NEED OF SUPPLIES FOR THE ARMY. [1780. 

York. The condition of tlie army, in spite of every effort, still continued to 
be deplorable. It was now that the distresses, which all the exertions of 
Congress failed to relieve, called forth the patriotic exertions of the ladies of 
Philadelphia. All ranks and classes took a share in this good Avork. Llrs. 
Heed, the wife of General Reed, became the head of an association for sup- 
plying the poor soldiers Avith a stock of raiment. Mrs. Bache, the daughter 
of Dr. Franklin, took also a zealous part in this labour of love and mercy. 
La Fayette, in the name of his wife, presented the society with a hundred 
guineas in specie, and the Countess de Luzerne also subscribed generously. 
Many disposed of their trinkets and ornaments, and those who had no money 
to spare exerted themselves no less effectively by cutting out and making up 
linen for the ragged and shivering defenders of their country. Twenty-two 
hundred shirts were thus forwarded to Washington's camp, an offering which 
not only greatly mitigated the sufferings of the troops, but by convincing them 
that they were not forgotten by their grateful countrywomen, tended to comfort 
and sustain them under the privations to Avhich they were inevitably exposed. 

Before the end of April La Fayette arrived from France, with the joyful 
intelligence that the French government had fitted out an armament, the ar- 
rival of which might shortly be expected. So urgent Avas the enthusiastic 
marquis, that he had prevailed on the king to send over a body of land forces 
to act in concert Avith the republican troops. Such Avas his importunity, that 
the French minister said one day in council, " It is fortunate for the king that 
Lafayette does not take it into his head to strip Versailles of his furniture to 
send to his dear Americans, as his Majesty Avould be unable to refuse it." Not 
content Avith these public succours, he generously expended large sums of his 
private fortune in providing sAVords and appointments for the corps placed 
under his command. 

While the French troops were anxiously expected. Sir Henry Clinton re- 
turned from his successful attack on Charleston, and General Knyphausen 
Avas sent on an expedition into the Jerseys, its' object being, as Avas sup- 
posed, to withdraw Washington from his encampment in that direction, 
while a strong body Avas sent up the Hudson to besiege West Point and the 
other posts on the Highlands. If such was indeed its purpose, it proved un- 
successful, and the militia of the country coming forAvard Avith spirit, the in- 
vaders Avere soon compelled to retire. Thus harassed and repelled, the 
British and Hessian troops committed the same raA'ages Avhich had signalized 
the incursion of Tryon. At Connecticut Farms they burned the Presbyterian 
church and a considerable part of the village. Too often, during this unhappy 
struggle, the American Avomen had to bear their full share of the miseries of civil 
war, and by their heroic endurance sustained the coui'age of their husbands, 
sons, and brothers. " The traditions of our revolution," to use the words of 
Paulding, " abound in the most affecting instances of female courage and 
patriotism, such as posterity Avill do Avell to imitate, should the time ever 
again arrive for such sacrifices. Often did they suffer their houses to be 
burnt over their heads, their persons to be insulted, and their lives to hang 



17S0.] ARRIVAL OF A FLEET AND TROOPS FR03I FRANCE. 4&1 

by a single liair on tlae ferocious mercy of a drunken soldier, rather than be- 
tray the haunts of their defenders, or give the least item of information that 
might be serviceable to the enemy." On this occasion a tragedy occurred 
which inspired the deepest indignation all over the States. Mrs. Caldwell, 
wife of a clergyman well known for his enthusiastic devotion to his country's 
cause, had retired with her children into a room with only one window, to 
avoid any chance shots in case a skirmish should happen. No engagement 
however took place, and the unfortunate lady, unsuspicious of danger, was 
seated on a bed with her little child by the hand, and her nurse with an in- 
fant by her side, when a soldier stole round to the window, and deliberately 
levelling his piece, killed her at a single shot. By acts like these the British 
and their confederates destroyed evfen the faintest chance of the restoration of 
the royal authority, and excited in the minds of the people an unconquerable 
resolution, never to lay down their arms till the detested invaders were ex- 
pelled the soil. 

On the 10th of July a Frengh fleet arrived at Newport, commanded by the 
Chevalier de Ternay, and the troops by the Count de Rochambeau. As ex- 
perience had shown that much jealousy existed between the French and 
Americans, it had been wisely decided that the whole army should be placed 
under the orders of Washington, and that the American officers should take 
precedence of the French when of equal rank, — an arrangement which obvi- 
ated the heart-burnings and contentions that would otherwise have inevitably 
occurred. It was now the first wish of Washington to carry out his long- 
cherished idea of an attack upon New York by the combined forces, and a 
plan to that effect was drawn up and conveyed by La Fayette to the French 
commander. The French troops were to march from Newport to Washing- 
ton's old quarters at Morrisiana, where the Americans would form a junction 
with them. This arrangement, however, supposed the superiority of the 
French naval force over that of the British, and this was entirely disconcerted 
by the speedy arrival of Admiral Graves with reinforcements for the English 
fleet. The latter, now superior in force, blockaded the French in Newport, 
while Sir Henry Clinton left New York with a large force to attack the 
French and Americans, Finding, however, that their force was largely in- 
creased by the neighbouring militia, and fearing lest Washington might fall 
upon New York during his absence, he speedily returned to that city. Thus 
was the co-operation of the French and Americans again destined to become, 
for the present, abortive. Nothing could be done until the arrival of 
Count de Guichen from the West Indies with his fleet, or that of a fleet pre- 
paring to set out from Brest. The former, however, returned to France with- 
out visiting the anxious Americans, and the latter, blockaded by a British 
squadron, was unable to repair to their assistance. 

The gloom and disappointment thus occasioned was infinitely deepened by 
the discovery of an act of treachery, which, had it proved successful, as, but 
for circumstances apparently trivial, it would have done, would have struck a 
deadly, perhaps a fatal, blow at the cause for which America was struggling. 



488 ARNOLD'S POSITION IJY PHILADELPHIA. [1780. 

The works at "West Point had now been carried to completion, and it was 
regarded as. the most important fortress in the country. Not only did it form 
the centre of communication between the eastern and middle States, but 
was the principal deposit for the stores and munitions of the army. Sir 
Henry Clinton had long been anxious to obtain possession of this stronghold, 
and what he could vainly hope to obtain by force, an act of unparalleled base- 
ness now seemed ready to place within his grasp. 

For daring, impetuous valour, Arnold was justly regarded as the most bril- 
liant officer in the American service. His romantic expedition to Canada, his 
naval battle on Lake Cha*nplain, and especially his desperate bravery at the 
battles of Behmus Heights, had covered him with military glory. Disabled 
from active service by a wound received on this last occasion, he had been 
appointed to the command of the troops in Philadelphia. Here, as one of the 
leading men in the city, and being vain and fond of display, he launched out 
into a style of living very far beyond his means. He had married a beautiful 
and accomplished girl much younger than himself, the daughter of a Mr. 
Shippen, one of the leading Tories, who had been an object of great attrac- 
tion to the British officers during their occupation of Philadelphia, and had 
kept up a correspondence with Major Andre, adjutant-general of the army, 
and a great favourite of Sir Henry Clinton. 

Pressed by increasing expenses, Arnold's position soon became desper- 
ate, and in order to relieve his embarrassments, he was tempted to abuse his 
office to unworthy purposes. The council of Pennsylvania brought certain 
accusations against him, which, after some delay, were submitted to a military 
tribunal. Acquitted of the more serious charge, he was nevertheless sen- 
tenced to a reprimand from the commander-in-chief. Washington admin- 
istered the rebuke with the greatest delicacy and feeling. " Our service," he 
observed to him, " is the chastest of all. Even the shadow of a fault tarnishes 
the lustre of our finest achievements. The least inadvertence may rob us of 
the public favour, so hard to be acquired. I reprimand you for having for- 
gotten, that in proportion as you had rendered yourself formidable to our 
enemies, you should have been guarded and temperate in your deportment 
toward your fellow-citizens. Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have 
placed you on the list of our most valued commanders. I will myself furnish 
you, as far as it may be in my power, with opportunities of gaining the esteem 
of your country." How must Arnold's cheek have been suffused with shame, 
and his heart filled with rage and remorse, conscious that at that very moment 
he had already been eight months in secret, if not treasonable, correspond- 
ence with the enemy. 

Overwhelmed with debt, and having resigned his command, Arnold now 
tried to obtain a loan from the French minister, who, much as he admired the 
soldier, could not but despise the man, and while he refused his request, ad- 
ministered to him a delicate but cutting reproof. " You desire of me a 
service," he said, " which it would be easy for me to render, but which would 
degrade us both. When the envoy of a foreign power gives, or, if you will. 



1780.] MAJOR ANDR:^ GOES TO WEST POINT. 489 

lends money, it is ordinarily to corrupt those who receive it, and to make 
them the creatures of the sovereign whom he serves." Driven to despera- 
tion, insulted by the populace, and galled by the malignant satisfaction of his 
enemies, Arnold now meditated the blackest treason, disguising it to his own 
mind under the plea of what he chose to consider his country's ingratitude. 
Through the medium of his wife he opened a secret correspondence in a 
feigned hand and name with Major Andre, promising, if duly rewarded, to 
render a service as important to the royalist, as it would be ruinous to the re- 
publican cause. Whether his wife was ignorant of the nature of the corre- 
spondence, or, as many suppose, the original tempter to the crime, is a question 
that would seem never to have been satisfactorily ascertained. 

Arnold's next step was to obtain the command of West Point, readily 
granted him by the unsuspecting Washington. No sooner had he done so, 
than he proposed, for a certain sum, to betray it into the hands of Clinton. 

To be sure that he was not duped, a conference was required by the 
British general with his hidden correspondent, and both by Arnold and 
Clinton Major Andre was fixed upon to negociate the bribe, and concert the 
necessary arrangements for the delivery of the fortress. . That officer, what- 
ever may have been his secret dislike to the office, felt it to be his duty in the 
interest of his country's service, to offi^r no opposition to the wish of his chief. 
He therefore accepted the unpleasant task, being sj)ecially instructed by 
Clinton not to change his dress, nor, by venturing within the American 
lines, lay himself open to the charge of being a spy. 

To facilitate the design, the Vulture sloop of war, having Major Andre 
on board, ascended the Hudson river, as far as Teller's Point. Arnold's diffi- 
culty was now to get Andre on shore. The traitor himself was then occupy- 
ing the house of one Smith, either his accomplice or dupe, whom he persiiaded 
to go off and fetch him. At midnight on the 21st of September Smith 
rowed off to the Vulture. Andre descended into the boat, and both landed 
at the foot of a lofty wooded mountain, where Arnold, concealed among the 
trees, was anxiously awaiting his arrival. The remaining hours of night Avere 
too brief to settle all the details of their conference ; the dawn was approach- 
ing ; Smith, full of alarm, entreated them to break it off. Arnold urgently 
pressed Andre to accompany him as far as Smith's house, assuring him he 
might do so without the slightest danger. In an evil hour he complied with 
this request. Mounting a horse brought by a servant, he passed with 
Arnold the American lines at Haverstraw, and having reached Smith's 
house, the forenoon was spent in concerting the details of the surrender. 
Arnold furnished him with an exact account of the force at West Point, which 
he desired him to conceal in his stockings, gave him a pass, in the name of 
Anderson, to cross the lines, and then returned to his head-quarters at Robin- 
son's house, opposite West Point. 

Meanwhile, sensible that he had come on shore without a flag, Andre 
began to be seriously luieasy. He had intended to return on board the 
Vulture, but in the interim, the commander of a battery had opened a can- 

3 B 



490 ANDR:^ lea yes west point. [1780. 

nonade on that ship, for which he was reprimanded, as an idle waste oi powder 
and shot. That discharge decided the fate of Andre, and, perhaps, the 
destinies of America. The Vukure was obHged to retire some distance lower 
down the river, and Smith, afraid to pass the guard boats, now positively 
refused to take Andre on board, but offered to accompany him on horseback 
beyond the American lines, whence he could return to New York by land. 
Having no alternative, Andre reluctantly complied, having, at Arnold's sug- 
gestion, exchanged his regimentals for an ordinary dress. They set out a 
little before sunset, crossed the river at King's Ferry to Verplank's Point, 
and it being now dark, took the road towards New York. At the outposts they 
were challenged by a sentinel. Andre's pass was closely scrutinized by the 
officer on duty, and many and close inquiries addressed to him. At length, 
to his infinite satisfaction, he was released with an aj^ology, and advised to 
remain all night, on account of the marauders with which the neutral ground 
was infested. It was only after great persuasion on the part of Smith, that 
Andre consented to do so, and the former afterwards declared that he 
passed the night in great restlessness and uneasiness. At the dawn of day 
they were again in the saddle ; and now, considering himself beyond the reach 
of danger, the spirits of the young officer, which had hitherto been depressed 
by the sense of danger, recovered their natural elasticity. After breakfast- 
ing on the road they parted, and Andre continued his road towards New 
York alone. 

The tract upon which he now entered was called " the Neutral Ground," 
extending thirty miles along the Hudson, between the English and American 
lines. It was infested by two gangs of marauders^ the offspring of civil 
commotion, respectively denominated Cow-boys and Skinners. The former 
were mostly refugees attached to the British side, who made it their vocation 
to drive off cattle to the army at New York. The Skinners Avere professed 
patriots, but were detested even more than the Cow-boys by their own coun- 
trymen, between whom and the enemy they made but small distinction in their 
predatory expeditions. The unhappy inhabitants, if they embraced the 
American cause, were robbed by the Cow-boys ; if, on the contrary, they 
espoused that of the English, the Skinners would seize their goods, and have 
their property confiscated. To use the language of an eye-witness, — " Exposed 
to the depredations of both parties, they were often actually plundered, and 
always were liable to this calamity. They feared every body whom they saw, 
and loved nobody. To every question they gave such an answer as would 
please the inquirer ; or, if they despaired of pleasing, such a one as would not 
provoke him. Fear was, apparently, the only passion by which they were ani- 
mated. The power of volition seemed to have deserted them. They were not 
civil, but obsequious ; not obliging, but subservient. They yielded with a 
kind of apathy, and very quietly, what you asked, and what they supposed it 
impossible for them to retain. If you treated them kindly, they received it 
coldly ; not as a kindness, but as a compensation for injuries done them by 
others. When you spoke to them, they answered you without either good or ill 



1780.] CONDITION OF ''THE NEUTRAL GROUND:' 491 

nature, and without any appearance of reluctance or hesitation ; but they sub- 
joined neither questions nor remarks of their own; proving to your full con- 
viction that they felt no interest either in the conversation or yourself. Both 
their countenances and their motions had lost every trace of animation and of 
feeling. Their features were smoothed, not into serenity, but apathy ; and, in- 
stead of being settled in the attitude of quiet thinking, strongly indicated, that 
all thought, beyond what was merely instinctive, had fled their minds for ever. 

" Their houses, meantime, were, in a great measure, scenes of desolation. 
Their furniture was extensively plundered, or broken to pieces. The walls, 
floors, and windows were injured both by violence and decay, and were not 
repaired, because they had not the means to repair them, and because they 
were exposed to the repetition of the same injuries. Their cattle were gone. 
Their enclosures were burnt, where they were capable of becoming fuel; 
and in many cases thrown down, where they were not. Their fields were co- 
vered with a rank growth of weeds and wild grass. 

" Amid all this appearance of desolation, nothing struck the eye more forci- 
bly than the sight of the high road. Where there had heretofore been a 
continual succession of horses and carriages, life and bustle lending a spright- 
liness to all the environing objects, not a single, solitary traveller was seen, 
from week to week, or from month to month. The world was motionless and 
silent, except when one of these unhappy people veirtured upon a rare and 
lonely excursion to the house of a neighbour no less unhappy, or a scouting 
party, traversing the country in quest of enemies, alarmed the inhabitants 
M'ith expectations of new injuries and sufferings. The very tracks of the car- 
riages were grown over and obliterated; and, where they were discernible, 
resembled the faint impressions of chariot-wheels, said to be left on the pave- 
ments of Herculaneum. The grass was of full height for the scythe, and 
strongly realized the proper import of that picturesque declaration in the Song 
of Deborah: 'In the days of Shamgar, the son of Anath, in the days of Jael, 
the high-Avays were unoccupied, and the travellers walked through by-paths. 
The inhabitants of the villages ceased: they ceased in Israel.' " 

Both Cow-boys and Skinners had a general licence to arrest suspicious per- 
sons, which they often abused for purposes of plunder. It happened that on 
the morning a party, consisting of John Paulding and two associates, had 
concealed themselves by the road, on the look-out for cattle or travellers. 
Paulding, it is said, had escaped from prison in New York only three days 
before, in the disguise of a German yager, which he then wore. Seeing a 
gentleman approach, he sprung out and seized his bridle, and presenting his 
firelock, demanded of him where he was going. Andre, deceived by the 
dress, exclaimed, " Thank God, I am once more among friends ! " and address- 
ing the men, said, " I hope you belong to our party." " What party?" ex- 
claimed his captors. " The Lower (or British) party," was his reply — upon 
which, they rejoined that they did. Andre, thus deceived, imprudently 
avowed himself a British oflicer bound upon urgent business. They now 
caused him to dismount, and conducted him into a thicket, cut his saddle and 

3 B 2 



492 ANDR]^ TAKEN PRISONER BY THE AMERICANS. [1780. 

cloak lining, as Andre himself declared, in quest of money, and not finding 
it, said, " He may have it in his boots ;" which, with his stockings, they 
caused him to pull oiF. The papers which Arnold had given him at parting 
were thus discovered. Their suspicions were now aroused, and, notwith- 
standing the offers of Andre to give them what he had, which, however, Avas 
but a small sum in paper, and send them any amount they might desire, 
Paulding and his companions, prompted by patriotic motives, refused his 
most temjDting offers, and persisted in conductmg him to North Castle, the 
nearest military post, where he was delivered up to Lieutenant-Colonel Jame- 
son, the officer in command. 

Jameson, having looked over the papers, was in a state of great perplexity, 
never entertaining the most distant suspicion of Arnold. He decided at 
length on forwarding his prisoner to that general, informing him that he had 
sent the papers, found in Andre's boots, to Washington, as being of '' a very 
dangerous tendency." Andre accordingly was on his way to West Point, with 
a guard, when Major Tallmadge, next in command to Jameson, stated his sus- 
picions of treachery, and earnestly begged that the prisoner might be recalled. 
With some reluctance his request was granted, the letter to Arnold was sent 
forward, and Andre, who might otherwise have escaped with Arnold, was 
brovight back again. Finding his papers had been sent to Washington, he 
now wrote him a letter, explaining his name and rank, and giving a clear and 
candid account of the circumstances under which he had been betrayed within 
the American lines. This letter he handed to Tallmadge, who, though he had 
suspected that his captive was a military man, now found, to his surprise, that 
he w^as adjutant-general to the British army. 

MeauAvhile Washington, who, on his return from Hartford, had passed the 
night at Fishkill, set off with his suite before dawn, with the intention of 
breakfasting with Arnold at Robinson's house. When nearly opposite West 
Point he turned his horse down a lane, when La Fayette reminded him that he 
was taking the wrong road, and that Mrs. Arnold was, no doubt, waiting break- 
fast for them. " Ah," replied Washington, jokingly, " I know you young men 
are all in love with Mrs. Arnold, and wish to get where she is as soon as pos- 
sible. You may go and take your breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait 
for me, for I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side the river, 
and will be there in a short time." His officers, however, declined to leave 
him, and two of his aides-de-camp were sent forward to explain the cause of 
the delay. 

On learning that Washington and his suite would not be there for some time, 
Arnold and his family sat down to breakfast with the aides. While they were 
yet at table. Lieutenant Allen came in, and presented the letter from Jameson, 
informing Arnold that " Jlajor Andre, of the British army, was a frisoner in 
his custody.''^ Controlling his agitation, he arose, with the letter in his hand, 
and telling his companions that his presence Avas iirgently required at West 
Point, he went upstairs to his wife's chamber, and sent to call her. In a few 
words he explained to her that he must fly for his life, and that they might 



1780.] ARNOLD ESCAPES TO THE BRITISH ARMY. 



493 



never meet again. She fell in a swoon upon tlie floor. Kissing his child, he 
hastily descended to the river-side, and entered his six-oared barge, telling the 
men that he was going on board the Vulture with a flag. Unconscious of his 
purpose, and stimulated by the promise of drink, they exerted themselves to 
the utmost to reach the vessel. Arnold, leaping on board, was placed beyond 
the reach of pursuit. 

Soon after he had departed, Washington returned, and after breakfasting, 
determined to cross over to West Point. As the whole party glided across 
the river, surrounded by the majestic scenery of the Highlands, Washington 
said, " Well, gentlemen, I am glad, on the whole, that General Arnold has 
gone before us, for. we shall now have a'salute, and the roaring of the cannon 
will have a fine efiect among these mountains." The boat drew near to the 
beach, but no cannon were heard, and there was no appearance of preparation 
to receive them. *' What," said Washington, " do they not intend to salute 
us ? " As they landed, an officer descended the hill, and apologized for not 
being prej)ared to receive such distinguished visitors. " How is this, sir," 
said Wasliington, " is not General Arnold here ? " " No, sir," replied the 
officer, " he has not been here these two days, nor have I heard from him within 
that time." " This is extraordinary," said Washington, " we Avere told he 
had crossed the river, and that we should find him here ;" and then ascended 
the hill, and inspected the fortifications. On his return to the house he was 
encountered by Hamilton, who, taking him aside, placed in his hands the 
papers forwarded by Jameson, together with the letter of Andre. Washing- 
ton was deeply distressed, for no officer had rendered more important service 
to America than Arnold, or might have seemed more deeply pledged to it. 
** Whom can we trust now?" he sadly exclaimed to his companions. The 
house was a scene of misery. Arnold's wife was frantic with grief, and the 
sympathies of Washington and his officers were warmly excited for her de- 
plorable situation. Shortly afterward a letter came in from Arnold, beg- 
ging protection for his wife and child. " I have no favour," said the 
hardened traitor, " to ask for myself, I have too often experienced the in- 
gratitude of my country to attempt it, but from the known humanity of your 
Excellency, I am induced to ask your protection for Mrs. Arnold from 
every insult and injviry that a mistaken vengeance of my country might 
expose her to. It ought only to fall on me. She is as innocent as an 
angel, and is incapable of doing wrong." Such an apj)eal was how- 
ever unnecessary, the heart of Washington felt for the unhappy woman, 
and she received from him a pass to repair to her husband at New 
York. 

To many it has ever been doubtful whether this lady was not the 
tempter to her husband's crime. In the " Life of Aaron Burr," are some 
statements relating to the subject. " It is well known that Washington found 
Mrs. Arnold apparently frantic with distress at the communication her hus- 
band had made to her the moment before his flight. Lafayette, and the other 
officers in the suite of the commander-in-chief, were alive with the most 



494 ^ GRIEF OF MRS. ARNOLD. ' [1780. 

poignant sympathy; and a passport was given her by Washington, with which 
she immediately left "West Point to join Arnold in New York. On her way 
she stopped at the house of Mrs. Prevost, the wife of a British officer, who 
subsequently married Colonel Burr. Here the frantic scenes of West 
Point were renewed," says the narrative of Burr's biographer, " and con- 
tinued so long as strangers were present. As soon as she and Mrs. Prevost 
were left alone, however, Mrs. Arnold became tranquillized, and assured 
Mrs. Prevost, that she was heartily sick of the theatrics she was exhibiting. 
She stated that she had corresponded with the British commander ; that she 
was disgusted with the American cause, and those who had the management 
of public affiiirs; and that, through great persuasion and unceasing perse- 
verance, she had ultimately brought the general into an arrangement to sur- 
render West Point to the British. Mrs. Arnold was a gay, accomplished, 
artful, and extravagant woman. There is no doubt, therefore, that, for the 
purj^ose of acquiring the means of gratifying her vanity, she contributed 
greatly to the utter ruin of her husband, and thus doomed to everlasting 
infamy and disgrace all the fame he had acquired as a gallant soldier, at the 
sacrifice of his blood." 

Andre was now conveyed to West Point, and from thence sent down the 
river to Tappan in the custody of Major Tallmadge. Hitherto he appears 
to have thought that, with no intention of acting as a spy, and being 
reluctantly persuaded to cross the lines, he had no reason to fear for his life. 
*' Before we reached the Clove," says his conductor, " he became very in- 
quisitive to know my opinion as to the result of his capture. When I could 
no longer evade his importunity, I remarked to him as follows : — ' I had a miich- 
loved class-mate in Yale College, by the name of Hale, who entered the army 
in 1775. Immediately after the battle of Long Island, Washington wanted 
information respecting the strength of the enemy. Hale tendered his services, 
went over to Brooklyn, and was taken, just as he was passing the outposts of 
the enemy on his return.' Said I, with emphasis, ' Do you remember the 
sequel of the story?' 'Yes,' said Andre, 'he was hanged as a spy. But 
you surely do not consider his case and mine alike ! ' I replied, ' Yes, pre- 
cisely similar, and similar will be your fate.' He endeavoured to answer my 
remarks, but it Avas manifest he was more troubled in spirit than I had ever 
seen him before." 

The first object of the commander-in-chief Avas to take measures to defeat 
the intended movements concerted with Clinton. His position was verv em- 
barrassing. Bvimours were circulating, though without foundation, that others 
were implicated in the treachery of Arnold. He resolved however to treat 
every one as innocent until criminated by fair evidence, and he had the 
satisfaction of finding that treason was confined to the breast of Arnold alone. 

On the arrival of Andre at Tappan, a court-martial, consisting of the first 
officers in the army, and presided over by Greene, was appointed to try him. 
On being examined, the prisoner candidly recapitulated what he had already 
stated in his letter to Washington. His own statements, without any further 



1780.] ' ANDRt CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 495 

evidence, were sufficient to convict him. The board reported that he had 
come on shore to hold a secret interview with Arnold, had changed his dress 
within the American lines, passed the guards in a disguised habit and name, 
having about him papers containing information for the enemy. These cir- 
cumstances, they considered, justified them in regarding him as a spy, and he 
was accordingly sentenced to suffer death by hanging. 

Ever since his capture, the unhappy prisoner had made the most favour- 
able impression. The elegance of his manners, his openness and candour, 
his many accomplishments, caused even his judges to deplore his fate, and 
heartily desire a less interesting victim. He bore the intelligence of his 
sentence with manly firmness, his chief anxiety being to exonerate himself 
from the odium attached to the character of a spy. The duty upon which 
he was sent was one strictly within the limits of military law, and it was by 
accident, not by premeditation, that he committed the imprudence of passing 
within the American lines, by which circumstance, and by which alone, he 
could fairly be condemned to death. On learning the nature of his sentence, 
Andre wrote a pathetic letter to Washington, entreating that he might be 
allowed to die the death of a soldier. Deeply affected, the commander-in- 
chief referred the subject to his officers, who unanimously desired that Andr^ 
should be shot, with the sole exception of General Greene, the president. 
" Andre," said he, " is either a spy, or an innocent person. If the latter, to 
execute him, in any way, will be murder ; if the former, the mode of his 
death is prescribed by law, and you have no right to alter it. Nor is this all. 
At the present alarming crisis of our affairs the public safety calls for a 
solemn and impressive example. Nothing can satisfy it short of the execu- 
tion of the prisoner as a common spy ; a character of which his own con- 
fession has clearly convicted him. Beware how you suffer your feelings to 
triumph over your judgment. Indulgence to one may be death to thousands. 
Through mistaken sensibility, humanity may be wounded, and the cause of 
freedom sustain an injury you cannot remedy. 

" Besides, if you shoot the prisoner instead of hanging him, you will excite 
suspicions which you will be unable to allay. Notwithstanding all your 
efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public compassion, and the belief will 
become general that, in the case of Major Andre, there Avere exculpatory 
circumstances, entitling him to lenity beyond what he received — perhaps 
entitling him to pardon. Hang him, therefore, or set him free." The argu- 
ments of Greene prevailed, and the ignominious sentence was accordingly 
confirmed. 

Compassion for Andre and detestation for Arnold now suggested to 
Washington the idea of effecting, if possible, an exchange, and transferring the 
penalty to be incurred by the former, upon the guilty head of the latter. 
This proposal was indirectly made to Sir Henry Clinton, but deeply as he 
loved Andre, and much as he must have despised Arnold, yet honour 
forbade that he should give up the traitor to the vengeance of his injured 
country. 



49G CLINTON TRIES TO OBTAIN ANDRJ^'8 RELEASE. [1780. 

The last hours of the unhappy young man are best described in Dr. Thatcher's 
Military Journal. " October 1st, 1780. — I went this afternoon to -witness the 
execution of Major Andre. — A large concourse of people had assembled, the 
gallows was erected, and the grave and coffin prepared to receive the remains 
of this celebrated but unfortunate officer ; but a flag of truce arrived with a 
communication from Sir Henry Clinton, making another and further pro- 
posal for the release of Major Andre, in consequence of which the execution 
was postponed till to-morrow, at twelve o'clock. 

" The flag which came out this morning brought General E-obertson, Andrew 
Eliot, and William Smith, Esqrs., for the purpose of pleading for the release 
of Major Andre, the royal army being in the greatest affliction on the occasion. 
The two latter gentlemen, not being military officers, were not permitted to 
land, but General Greene was appointed by his Excellency to meet General 
Robertson at Dobb's Ferry and to receive his communications. He had 
nothing material to urge, but that Andre had come on shore under the 
sanction of a flag, and therefore could not be considered as a spy. But this is 
not true: he came on shore in the night, and had no flag, on business totally 
incompatible with the nature of a flag. Besides, Andre himself candidly con- 
fessed, on his trial, that he did not consider himself under the sanction of a 
flag. General Robertson, having failed in his point, requested that the opinion 
of disinterested persons might be taken, and proposed Generals Knyphauscn 
and Eochambeau as proper persons. After this he had recourse to threats of 
retaliation on some people in New York and Charlestown, but he was told 
that such conversation could neither be heard nor understood. He next 
urged the release of Andre on motives of humanity, saying, he wished an 
intercourse of such civilities as might lessen the horrors of war, and cited 
instances of General Clinton's merciful disposition, adding that Andre pos- 
sessed a great share of that gentleman's affection and esteem, and that he would 
be infinitely obliged if he was spared. He oflfered, if his earnest wishes 
were complied with, to engage that any prisoner in their possession, whom 
General Washington might name, should immediately be set at liberty. But 
it must be viewed as the height of absurdity that General Robertson should, 
on this occasion, suffer himself to be the bearer of a letter which the vile traitor 
had the consummate effrontery to write to General Washington. This insolent 
letter is filled with threats of retaliation, and the accountability of his Excel- 
lency for the torrents of blood that might be shed, if he should order the 
execution of Major Andre. It would seem impossible that General Ro- 
bertson could suppose that such insolence would receive any other treat- 
ment than utter contempt. 

" October 2nd. Major Andre is no more among the living. I have just 
witnessed his exit. It was a tragical scene of the deepest interest. During 
his confinement and trial, he exhibited those proud and elevated sensibilities 
which designate greatness and dignity of mind. Not a murmur or a sigh ever 
escaped him, and the civilities and attentions bestowed on him were politely 
acknowledged. Having left a mother and two sisters in England, he was 



1780.] DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRA 497 

heard to mention tlieni in terms of the greatest affection, and in his letter 
to Sir Henry Chnton, he recommends them to his particular attention. 

" The principal guard officer, Avho was constantly in the room with the 
prisoner, relates, that when the hour of his execution was announced to him 
in the morning, he received it without emotion, and while all present were 
affected with silent gloom, he retained a firm countenance, with a calmness 
and composure of mind. Observing his servant enter his room in tears, he 
exclaimed, ' Leave me, till you can shoAV yourself more manly.' His break- 
fast being sent him from the table of General Washington, which had been 
done every day of his confinement, he partook of it as usual, and having 
shaved and dressed himself, he placed his hat on the table, and cheerfully 
said to the guard officers, ' I am ready at any moment, gentlemen, to wait 
on you.' The fatal hour having arrived, a large detachment of troops was 
paraded, and an immense concourse of people assembled ; almost all our 
general and field officers, excepting his Excellency and his staff, were 
present on horseback ; melancholy and gloom pervaded all ranks, and the 
scene was affectingly awful. I was so near during the solemn march to the 
fatal spot, as to observe every movement, and participate in every emotion 
which the melancholy scene was calculated to produce. Major Andre walked 
from the stone-house, in which he had been confined, between two of our 
subaltern officers, arm in arm ; the eyes of the immense multitude were fixed 
on him, who, rising superior to the fears of death, appeared as if conscious of 
the dignified deportment which he displayed. He betrayed no want of forti- 
tude, but retained a complacent smile on his countenance, and politely bowed 
to several gentlemen whom he knew, which was respectfully returned. It 
was his earnest desire to be shot, as being the mode of death most conform- 
able to the feelings of a military man, and he had indulged the hope that his 
request would be granted. At the moment, therefore, when suddenly he 
came in view of the gallows, he involuntarily started backward, and made a 
pause. ' Why this emotion, sir?' said an officer by his side. Instantly re- 
covering his composure, he said, ' I am reconciled to my death, but I detest 
the mode.' While waiting and standing near the gallows, I observed some 
degree of trepidation ; placing his foot upon a stone, and rolling it over, and 
choking in his throat, as if attempting to swallow. So soon, however, as he 
perceived that things were in readiness, he stepped quickly into the waggon, 
and at this moment he appeared to shrink, but instantly elevating his head, 
with firmness, he said, ' It will be but a momentary pang ;' and taking from 
his pocket two white handkerchiefs, the provost-marshal, with one, loosely 
pmioned his arms, and with the other, the victim, after taking off his hat and 
stock, bandaged his own eyes with perfect firmness, which melted the hearts 
and moistened the cheeks, not only of his servant, but of the throng of spec- 
tators. The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped the noose over 
his head, and adjusted it to his neck, without the assistance of the awkward 
executioner. Colonel Scammel now informed him, that he had an opportunity 
to speak, if he desired it ; he raised his handkerchief from his eyes, and said, 

3 8 



403 THE AMERICANS TRY TO CAPTURE ARNOLD. [1780. 

' I pray you to bear me witness that I meet my fate like a brave man.' The 
waggon being now removed from under him, he was suspended, and instantly 
expired ; it proved indeed ' but a momentary pang.' He was dressed in 
his royal regimentals and boots, and his remains Avere placed in an ordinary 
coffin and interred at the foot of the gallows ; and the spot was consecrated 
by the tears of thousands." 

The spot where Andre suffered is near Tappan, and marked by a large 
stone with an inscription. His remains were taken up in 1831, by desire of 
the British consul at New York, and it was found that a peach tree planted 
by some sympathetic friend had twined its roots around his skull. They 
were finally deposited near the handsome monument erected to his memory 
in Westminster Abbey. His captors were rewarded with a handsome an- 
nuity by Congress. 

Arnold received ten thousand pounds for his treachery, and the rank of 
colonel in the British army. Many attempts Avere made by the Americans to 
get possession of the traitor, in order to inflict upon him the punishment due 
to his crime. One of these is strikingly romantic. Washington having 
secretly requested Major Lee to pick out an individual of tried fidelity and 
courage, his choice fell upon Serjeant Champe, who was instructed to desert to 
the enemy at New York, get introduced to Arnold, and concert measures for 
seizing and carrying him off. Accordingly, one night he mounted his horse 
and rode off, but his escape was speedily discovered and reported to his com- 
manding officer. Lee, anxious to gain time, contrived to delay pursuit of the 
supposed deserter as long as possible, but with such ardour was the chase 
kept up, that Champe had barely time to reach the shore and swim off to a 
British guard-boat, Avhen his pursuers were close upon his heels. 

As it was the policy of the British to encourage desertions, Champe was 
handsomely rcAvarded by Sir Henry Clinton, who desired him to present 
himself to Arnold, then occupied in raising a legion of runaway recruits. In 
this he enlisted in order to have free access to his person, and sent Avord 
privately to Lee to meet him Avith horses on the other side of the Hudson. 
His plan Avas, Avith tAvo accomplices, to seize and gag Arnold in his garden, 
not far from the Avater, and in case of interruption, declare that he Avas a 
drunken soldier Avhom they were carrying off to the guard-house. They 
were then to hurry him into a boat and cross the river to the appointed ren- 
dezvous. Thither Lee accordingly repaired, and waited long and anxiously, 
but in A'ain. The plan Avas disconcerted by the sudden departure of Arnold 
and his legion to the south, and thus Champe, instead of being the captor, 
was himself insnared and carried off. Arrived at length in Virginia, he con- 
trived to desert and make his Avay back to his old comrades, who received 
him as one alive from the dead ; and the mystery of his disappearance being 
noAV explained, he Avas extolled as much as he had been formerly execrated. 

Convenient as Avas the treachery of Arnold to the British, they could not 
but secretly detest his character. From motlA'es the most sordid, he for- 
feited a dearly-earned and briUiaut reputation among his oAvn countrymen. 



1780.] SECRET AGENTS EZrpLOYED BY WASHINGTON. 499 

to reap contempt and ignominy among strangers. We shall shortly find liim 
turning his sword against his fellow-citizens, and plundering those whom he 
had formerly laboured to protect. He afterwards went to England, where he 
must have been often cut to the soul by the treatment he received. Even 
the patronage of royalty could not bespeak him a decent measure of respect. 
"When George III. once introduced him to Earl Balcarras, one of Burgoyne's 
officers who had witnessed his gallantry at Behmus' Heights, the earl re- 
plied, disdainfully turning on his heel, " I know General Arnold, and abom- 
inate traitors." 

It may be remarked in connexion with this subject, that many secret 
agents were employed by Washington during the progress of the war. Of 
these the most remarkable was Enoch Crosby, whose operations as a spy were 
chiefly on the neutral ground. His secret services were often important 
in revealing the designs of the royalists. Professing himself to be a 
zealous Tory, he obtained access to their meetings, and though he often be- 
-trayed their plans, such was his consummate tact, that he never was dis- 
covered. On one occasion, finding that a party were forming to join the 
English at New York, he wormed himself into the confidence of their leader, 
and during the night stole off and gave information to their enemies. AVhile, 
at his suggestion, a meeting was held the following evening, the whole party, 
himself inclusive, were surrounded and made prisoners, and confined in a 
neighbouring church. A means of escape was however artfully left him, and 
leaping through a window he darted off", a few bullets being fired after him 
at random, in order to keep up the deception. In this manner and at gi'cat 
personal risk he rendered important services to his country's cause. Being 
at length suspected by the English, he went into the army to the close of the 
revolution, and ended his days upon a farm. Washington had also agents 
in New York, who, unknown to each other, supplied him with information 
through different channels. Intelligence was conveyed by means of writing 
in invisible ink between the lines of an ordinary letter, so that if intercepted 
the risk of detection was but trifling. 

The banks of the Hudson, besides being perhaps the most beautiful in 
America, are for ever associated with these events. Here Washington had 
his head-quarters during the latter part of the war. Here occurred the trea- 
son of Arnold and the tragedy of the unfortunate Andre, The ruins of Fort 
Putnam overlook a magnificent scene of river and mountain, the theatre of 
these memorable events. Many a scene of thrilling adventure is connected 
with the " Neutral Ground." The Marquis of Chastellux, in his travels, 
gives so lively a picture of the American camp in the midst of this noble 
scenery, that we cannot refrain from inserting it, to give life and reality to 
the bare and indistinct outline of historical fact. 

" On my return southward," says Chastellux, " I spent a day or two at 
Verplank's Point, where I had the honour of dining with General Washing- 
ton. I had suffered severely from an ague, which I could not get quit of, 
though I had taken the exercise of a hard-trotting horse, and got thus far to 

3 s 2 



500 'APPEARANCE OF THE A21EBICAN CAMP. [1780. 

/ 

I 

the north in tlie month of October. The General observing it, told me he was ' 
sure I had not met with a good glass of wine for some time, — an article then 
very rare, — but that my disorder must be frightened away. He made me 
drink three or four of his silver camp cups of excellent Madeira at noon, and 
recommended to me to take a generous glass of claret after dinner ; a pre- 
scription by no means repugnant to my feelings, and which I most religiously 
followed. I mounted my horse the next morning, and continued my journey 
to Massachusetts, without ever experiencing the slightest return of my dis- 
order. 

" The American camp here presented the most beautiful and picturesque 
appearance. It extended along the plain, on the neck of land formed by the 
winding of the Hudson, and had a view of this river to the south. Behind it, 
the lofty mountains, covered with wood, formed the most sublime back-ground 
that painting could express. In the front of the tents was a regular continued 
portico, formed by the boughs of the trees in fuU verdure, decorated with 
much taste and fancy. Opposite the camp, and on distinct eminences, stood , 
the tents of some of the general officers, over which towered predominant that 
of Washington. I had seen all the camps in England, from many of which 
drawings and engravings have been taken; but this was truly a subject 
worthy the pencil of the first artist. The French camp, during their stay in 
Baltimore, was decorated in the same manner. At the camp at Verplank's 
Point we distinctly heard the morning and evening gun of the British at 
Kingsbridge." 

" The weather being fair on the 26th," he says, " I got on horseback, after 
breakfasting with the General. He was so attentive as to give me the horse 
I rode on the day of my arrival. I found him as good as he is handsome ; but, 
above all, perfectly well broke and well trained, having a good mouth, easy 
in hand, and stopping short in a gallop without bearing the bit. I mention 
these minute particulars, because it is the General himself who breaks all his 
own horses. He is an excellent and bold horseman, leaping the highest 
fences, and going extremely quick without standing uiDon his stirrups, bearing 
on the bridle, or letting his horse run wild ; circumstances which our young 
men look upon as so essential a part of English horsemanship that they would 
rather break a leg or an arm than renounce them." 

Amidst the fast-fading relics of the revolution, the ^' Hasbrouck House," 
near Newburgh, still attracts the pious footsteps of the pilgrim, as being the 
head-quarters of Washington during the last years of the war. It is, for 
America, rather antiquated, being no less than a hundred years old. Its 
lofty pointed gables, ponderous roofs, and picturesque piazza, mark the style 
of those mansions which are so rapidly disappearing before more showy 
modern edifices. The principal chamber, used as a sort of levee room by 
Washington, is of great size, with a fire-place large enough to roast an ox, 
and its low roof is supported by ponderous wooden beams, like those of an 
old English farm. It looks out upon one of the most magnificent river scenes 
in the world. The noble Hudson is seen entering the romantic pass of the 



1780.] BENJAMIN FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 501 

Highlands between parallel ranges of mountains, upon whose lofty wood- 
crowned heights, in those days, were often seen the watch-fires of the 
American army. 

The rapid progress of events on the soil of America has withdrawn our at- 
tention from one of the earlier and most important actors in the revolution, 
now transported to a distant shore. Franklin had lately been appointed sole 
commissioner to the coast of France, and was conspicuous amidst that scene 
of luxury and splendour, so near to the brink of a terrible convulsion. The 
queen, Marie Antoinette, had been one of the warmest friends to the Ameri- 
can cause, and her influence had procured for them many important ser- 
vices. Of this the people were well aware, and on the settlement of the Ohio 
Valley, shortly after the close of the war, the chief town was called, in honour 
of her. Marietta. " She was," to use the words of Leitch Ritchie, " a frivolous 
but not unamiable beauty. She was full of whims, and was determined to 
gratify them, at whatever cost. She went in disguise to the balls at the 
opera, and delighted to mix among the masks, and spread the report of her 
own presence. At Trianon she passed to an opposite extreme, and would 
be a simple milkmaid, dressed in a white muslin gown; with a gauze kerchief 
and a straw bonnet. She fished in the lake, she saw the cows milked, she 
loitered about the whole day, while the Count de Provence took the part of a 
miller, the Count d'Artois of a farmer, and the Cardinal de Rohan of a 
village curate. Here there was no court ceremony. No one stood up when 
she entered the room, the ladies went on with their music or embroidery, 
and the gentlemen with their gaming. Private theatricals were the great 
amusement, and the king was very happy to look on. Here she received 
many crowned heads and gave them fetes, at which the gardens were illum- 
inated with variegated lamps, and looked like fairy-land. Among the glit- 
tering throng there was one who attracted special attention, and whose 
presence was afterwards looked upon as an omen. He was a venerable old 
man, with white hair, round hat, and plain brown clothes. His name was 
Benjamin Franklin, and he had come over from America to stir up the 
French in favour of his country, which was about to throw off' the yoke of 
England and become a republic. Unhappily for monarchy, his voice was 
listened to. The national hatred of the English prevailed, and the troops of 
an absolute king crossed the Atlantic to fight side by side with rejDublicans, 
and, when the victory was gained, to bring back into the bosom of excited 
France the war of freedom and detestation of royalty." 

That Franklin once regarded George III. with feelings of sincere loyalty, 
and believed that he had been led unwillingly into the war by his ministers, 
has already appeared. He had now seen reason completely to change his 
opinion, and believed that it was the obstinacy of the monarch himself 
which compelled his ministers to continue the struggle, even after it had be- 
come evident that success on their part was hopeless. The revulsion of feel- 
ing was violent, and nothing could exceed the bitterness with which he now 



502 WASHINGTON'S REPUTATION IN EUROPE. [1780. 

spoke and wrote of the king. In tlie violence of Franklin's feelings, the voice 
of an impartial philosophy was not allowed to suggest, that the maintenance 
of his empire in America, against what he believed to be rebellion, might 
have been as conscientious, though mistaken, a principle of action in the mind 
of George III., as was the resistance of the Americans to what they rightfully 
regarded to be an unconstitutional tyranny. 

No doubt the bitterness of Franklin's feelings was greatly aggravated by 
his profound detestation of war. In a letter to Dr. Price, one of the warmest 
friends of America in England, he anticipates a state of things, which let us 
hope is fast approaching. " We daily make improvements in jiatural, there 
is one I wish to see in moral philosophy — the discovery of a plan that would 
induce and oblige nations to settle their disputes without first cutting each 
others' throats. When will human reason be sufficiently improved to see the 
advantage of this ? When will men be convinced that even successful wars at 
length become misfortunes to those who unjustly commenced them, and who 
triumphed blindly in their success, not seeing all its consequences ? Your 
great comfort and mine in this war is, that we honestly and faithfully did 
every thing in our power to prevent it." 

Another of Franklin's letters is extremely interesting, as showing the feel 
ings with which Washington was even then regarded in Europe. 

" I have received but lately the letter your Excellency did me the honour 
of writing to me, in recommendation of the Marquis de la Fayette. His 
modesty detained it long in his own hands. We became acquainted, how- 
ever, from the time of his arrival at Paris ; and his zeal for the honour of our 
country, his activity in our affairs here, and his firm attachment to our cause, 
and to you, impressed me with the same regard and esteem for him that your 
Excellency's letter would have done, had it been immediately delivered 
to me. 

" Should peace arrive after another campaign or two, and afford us a little 
leisure, I should be happy to see your Excellency in Europe, and to accom- 
pany you, if my age and strength would permit, in visiting some of its ancient 
and most famous kingdoms. You would, on this side the sea, enjoy the great 
reputation you have acquired, pure and free from those little shades, that the 
jealousy and envy of a man's countrymen and contemporaries are ever endea- 
vouring to cast over living merit. Here you would know, and enjoy, what 
posterity will say of Washington. For a thousand leagues have nearly the 
same effect with a thousand years. The feeble voice of those grovelling pas- 
sions cannot extend so far either in time or distance. At present I enjoy 
that pleasure for you, as I frequently hear the old generals of this martial coun- 
try (who study the maps of America and mark upon them all your opera- 
tions) speak with sincere approbation and great applause of your conduct, 
and join in giving you the character of one of the greatest captains of 
the age. 

" I must soon quit the scene, but you may live to see our country flour- 
ish ; as it will, amazingly and rapidly, after the war is over ; like a field of 



1781.] THE ARMED -NEUTRALITY. 503 

young Indian corn, which long fair weather and sunshine had enfeebled 
and discoloured, and which, in that ^eak state, by a thunder gust of violent 
wind, hail, and rain, seemed to be threatened with absolute destruction ; yet, 
the storm being past, it recovers fresh verdure, shoots up with double vigour, 
and delights the eye, not of its owner only, but of every observing traveller." 
If the harshness with which England had treated her American children 
had provoked the general reprobation of Europe, the spirit with which she 
bore up against the combined attacks of her enemies excited the astonish- 
ment of the world. The struggle in which she had become involved threat- 
ened to involve her single-handed in hostilities with all Europe, as well as 
the rebellious colonists. Her claim to exercise a despotic sovereignty over 
the ocean by examining neutral vessels for stores sent to America, had] pro- 
voked the northern powers to combine for their mutual protection, under the 
title of the Armed Neutrality. They insisted that their ships should be ex- 
empt from search, and that no port should be considered blockaded unless 
really invested by ships of war. Great Britain was obliged to renounce her 
pretensions rather than provoke so formidable a confederacy. The magistrates 
of Amsterdam having showed a disposition to join the Armed' Neutrality, 
Henry Laurens was sent over to conclude a commercial treaty with Hol- 
land. The ship he sailed in being taken by the British, he threw his papers 
overboard, but one of the sailors plunged in and recovered them. The plan 
of the treaty being thus ascertained, the British government demanded satis- 
faction of the Dutch, and, not promptly receiving it, declared war. The fleets 
required to contend with such a host of enemies were immense. In the West 
Indies, at the rock of Gibraltar, even in distant Hindostan, the English, 
though at a ruinous expense, met and eventually triumphed over their Euro- 
pean enemies, and the origin of the war was almost forgotten amidst the vast 
and increasing hostilities which it had called into existence. 



CHAPTER VI. 



CAMPAIGN JF 1781. — MUTINY OF THE TROOPS. — GREENE AND CORNWALLIS IN THE SOUTH. — IN- 
VEST.MENT AND CAPTURE OF YORKTOWN. — BATTLE OP EUTAW SPRINGS. — TREATY OF PEACE, — 
MASSACRE OF GNADENHUTTEN. — RETIREMENT OF WASHINGTON. 

The last year of this long and weary struggle, destined as it was to close so 
memorably for the Americans, was gloomy and inauspicious in the opening. 
The regular troops had endured the extremity >of hardship without repining, 
but now, without pay or clothing, forgotten as it seemed by an ungrateful 
country, they at length broke out into mutiny, and resolved to wring from 



504: MUTINY IN THE ARMY. [1781. 

tlic fears of Congress what tliey had failed to obtain from tlieir justice or their 
pity. On the night of the 1st of January, at a concerted signal, the "whole 
Pennsylvania line turned out and declared their intention of marching upon 
Philadelphia. Their officers sought in vain to restrain them ; in their mood 
of exasperation they killed one of them, and wounded several others. AVhen 
even Wayne himself advanced with a cocked pistol, they pointed their 
bayonets at his breast, exclaiming, " General, we love, we respect you, but 
if you fire you are a dead man. We are not going to desert to the enemy. 
Were he in sight this moment you would see us fight under your orders in 
defence of our country. We love liberty, but we cannot starve." Finding 
them fixed in their determination, Wayne sent provisions after them to pre- 
vent their plundering the inhabitants, and proposed to the Serjeants who had 
been elected leaders of the revolt to send a deputation to Congress. The 
soldiers however were not in a mood to temporize, and insisted on marching 
forward. At Trenton they were met by three emissaries of Sir Henry Clin- 
ton, who had seized what he thought the proj^itious moment to seduce them 
by liberal promises. But however exasperated by their sufferings, the men 
disdained the idea, as they said, of becoming Arnolds; and they seized upon 
their British tempters, who were afterwards tried and executed as spies. 

In this alarming state of things, when the refusal of their chums might 
induce them to disband and return to their homes, Congress, obliged to bend, 
sent a deputation to meet and conciliate the mutineers. Suffering as they 
were, one great cause of dissatisfaction was the construction put upon the 
terms of enlistment, which, as they contended, were for three years or the war, 
instead of and the war, Avhereas their officers insisted on having it. On this 
point Congress were obliged to give way, and a considerable number were 
disbanded. A timely supply of clothing and certificates for the speedy dis- 
charge of their arrears of pay, induced the remainder to resume their duty. 

Washington had watched this sudden movement with the deepest anxiety. 
While he felt, on .one hand, the substantial justice of the demands thus 
made, he feared lest a compliance with them might induce tlie whole army 
to adopt a similar method of obtaining redress. He took this occasion of 
urging upon the New England States the necessity of subsidies that could 
no longer be safely denied, and a large sum of money, equal to three months' 
pay, the timely distribution of which checked any disposition to mutiny in the 
troops belonging to those States. But the New Jersey line shortly breaking 
into revolt, he determined to employ the most vigorous measures of repression. 
The precaution had already been taken of ordering a thousand trusty men to 
hold themselves in readiness for service ; six hundred of these were marched 
down to compel the rioters to surrender. Their camp was surrounded, and 
finding themselves taken by surprise, they were obliged to parade without 
their arms and make unconditional submission. Two of the ringleaders were 
shot; and by this painful but -summary method, the evil was prevented fiom 
spreading any further. 

This alarming outbreak indicated but too plainly the diseased condition of 



1781.] ESTABLISHMENT OF A NATIONAL BANK. 505 

the country. The paper money was fast reaching the last stage of depression. 
The scheme for specific supplies to the army had failed, the credit of Con- 
gress was all but annihilated, and the States neglected to pay the sums re- 
spectively required of them. Before the agents of government abroad had 
succeeded in negociating loans, so desperate was their need, Congress were 
already issuing bills of credit upon the strength of them. In such a state of 
things, it required the resources of a master-mind to grapple with the financial 
difficulties of the country. Such a man was Robert Morris, a native of 
England, who came over to America when but fifteen years of age ; and 
entering into a commercial life, became one of the leading men of Phila- 
delphia, " Though of English birth," says Sullivan, "he devoted himself to 
the patriot side in the revolutionary contest. He had acquired great wealth 
as a merchant, but he cheerfully risked the whole of it to gain the independence 
of his adopted country. The final success of the revolution depended no less on 
the ability and industry of this one man, than on all the armies, with Wash- 
ington as their chief." When Congress had exhausted their means, all other 
means depended on Robert Morris, At one time he had used his own 
personal credit, to the extent of one million four hundred thousand dollars, 
to sustain the credit of the United States. At a critical moment be had 
presented the suffering army with a whole ship-load of clothing and annnuni- 
tion. Under his auspices, a national bank was established, which proved a 
most important auxiliary to Congress, Its bills payable on demand were 
recognised as legal tender for the public taxes, and by issuing exchequer 
notes, the government were able to anticipate their produce. Under the able 
management of Morris, public credit revived, and a new impulse was com- 
municated to all the operations of government. On the relinquishment of the 
system of boards, he was induced to accept the post of treasurer, on the ex- 
press condition that all transactions should be in specie value. The doom of 
the old paper was now sealed, and it declined with such rapidity, that by the 
end of the year it had entirely gone out of circulation. 

After the mutiny, Laurens was despatched to France, to press more 
urgently upon the government the absolute necessity of a loan, to extricate 
the Americans from their embarrassment. Before his arrival, Franklin had 
already obtained a considerable subsidy, and Laurens now succeeded in get- 
ing the French minister to guarantee a loan on Holland. These pecuniary 
succours were of inestimable value in promoting operations, upon which the 
termination of this long and weary contest depended. 

When General Greene, at the commencement of the year, had assumed the 
command in the south, he found an army mostly of militia, consisting of less 
than two thousand men, but three days' provision in the camp, and a wretched 
supply of ammunition. In front was Cornwallis, with a superior force and 
master of the country, Virginia, herself menaced with a formidable invasion, 
was the only source to which he could look for further succours. The task might 
well have discouraged the most sanguine mind. He had at once to keep at 
bay a powerful and victorious foe, to overawe the triumphant loyalists, and 

3t 



606 GREENE OPENS THE CA MPAIGN IN THE SO UTH [1781. 

encourage the cTislicartened republicans. He had to cover an immense 
territory with a force which, utterly insufficient as it was, it required all his 
resources and experience as quarter-master-general to provide for. Yet, 
under such disadvantages, his bold and comprehensive mind dared to attempt 
the recovery of the two Carolinas and the protection of Virginia. His policy 
was, to harass and divide the royal army, intimidate its partisans, cut off its 
supplies ; to avoid a general engagement, except where victory could be little 
less ruinous to the royal army than a defeat ; to allow no repulse to discourage 
him, but turn again on his pursuers at the earliest opportunity, and fairly 
exhaust them with a tedious and indecisive campaign. He well knew the 
skill and energy of Lord Cornwallis, and of the officers by whom he was 
supported. Yet, confident in his mental resources, he determined to grapple 
with and overcome these numerous and formidable obstacles. 

Having, so far as possible, reorganized his army, Greene opened the cam- 
paign, by taking post himself at the Cheraw Hill on the Pedee. He next 
sent General Morgan, the brave commander of the rifles at Saratoga, with 
four hundred continentals under Colonel Howard, Colonel Washington's 
corps of dragoons, and a few militia, to a position near Ninety-six, in order 
to overawe the Tories, who were committing great ravages on the republi- 
cans, and encourage the latter to repair to his standard. Cornwallis, whose 
head-quarters Avere at Winnsborough, finding that Greene had thus divided 
his forces, pushed northward betAveen the Broad river and the Catawba; 
intending to place himself between Greene and Morgan, in pursuit of whom 
he detached the indefatigable Tarleton. This officer displayed his customary 
alacrity, and closely pressed upon Morgan, Avho, rather than be overtaken 
at a disadvantage, boldly came to a halt, and determined to risk an engage- 
ment, the loss of Avhich Avould have proved as fatal to himself, as it would 
probably have been ruinous also to Greene. 

Morgan selected for the purpose a spot called the Cowpens, and proceeded 
to draAV up his force with no small measure of skill. In front he placed his 
militia, Avith orders to keep up the fire as long as possible, and then foil back 
and range Avith the main body in the rear, composed of his Avell-trained con- 
tinentals and tAVo bodies of Virginia militia, upon Avhom his chief reliance Avas 
placed. Colonel Washington with his cavalry Avas placed so as to protect the 
flanks. Morgan noAv harangued his troops, urging the militia to remember 
their families and homes, and warning the continentals not to be alarmed at 
the retreat of the front line, that being a part of his plan and orders. Posting 
himself Avith the main body, he then, on the 17th of January, aAvaited the 
attack of the English. 

Tarleton and his men, Aveary as they Avere Avith pursuit, came up with their 
usual impetuosity, and the line being hastily formed, rushed to the charge 
with loud shouts and a confident anticipation of victory. The militia, after 
delivering a discharge, fell back, and the victorious assailants next came in 
contact Avith the continentals. With these tried soldiers, hoAvcA^er, their success 
WMs different, and so obstinate Avas the struggle that Tarleton Avas obliged to 



507 

order up his reserve, whicli now outflanked the line of the Americans. To 
avoid the danger. Colonel Howard ordered a portion of his men to change 
front, but the order being misunderstood, the whole body fell back. At the 
sight of this supposed retreat, the British infantry rushed forward with im- 
jnetuosity to complete their discomfiture ; when their enemies unexpectedly 
faced about and delivered a close and murderous fire. To a soldier confident 
of victory, nothing is so dangerous as a sudden revulsion or panic. The fore- 
most of the British were thrown into confusion, when, at this critical moment, 
Howard ordered his men to advance upon them with the bayonet, and from 
pursued to become the pursuers. The British infantry now turned and fled, 
while the cavalry, who had pursued the American militia, were charged and 
broken by Colonel Washington ; and the whole of that force, a moment before 
confident of victory, now fled discomfited from the field. Not all the efforts of 
their ofl[icers could stay the rout. With a handful of his dragoons and several 
officers, Tarleton turned fiercely upon Colonel Washington's horse, with the 
hope of restoring the battle and rallying the fugitives ; but all his efl^orts proved 
in vain, and he fled with his horsemen to carry the bitter news to Cornwallis, 
then but a few miles distant. He had lost about eight hundred men in killed 
and wounded, and all his artillery, ammunition, baggage, and horses fell into 
the power of the victors. This triumph over an enemy so long dreaded for his 
fiery courage and merciless severity, the terror of the whole country, not 
only animated the republicans with enthusiasm, but was the proximate cause 
of all the difliculties of the English during the rest of the campaign. 

Deeply distressed at this untoward event, Cornwallis lost nothing of his 
customary energy and determination ; but set himself to neutralize, if possible, 
the success of Morgan, and wrest his prisoners from his grasp by a bold 
and decided movement. Setting himself the first example by the sacrifice of 
his own share, he ordered the superfluous baggage and stores to be destroyed, 
and converted his army into a light corps, carrying their provisions on their 
backs. His object was to overtake Morgan, and, if possible, prevent his form- 
ing a junction with Greene, and then, by pressing forAvard to the Yadkin, 
which separates North Carolina from Virginia, before the American general 
could arrive thei'e, interrupt his expected succours, and compel him to a 
general action. 

His adversaries, however, were both on the alert, and speedily penetrating 
his plans, strained every nerve to render them abortive. Morgan had lost 
not a moment in pushing on for tb*- fords of the Catawba ; and such had been 
his activity, that just two hours before the van of the British came in sight he 
had successfully transferred his army and baggage to the opposite shore. It 
Avas dark when the English army came up, and they encamped on the bank 
of the river. Just at this critical moment the elements seemed to fight for 
the salvation of the Americans and the discomfiture of their pursuers. During 
the night a heavy fall of rain, which, had it occurred a little sooner, must, by 
rendering the stream impassable, have prevented Morgan's escape, now 
obliged Cornwallis and his army to pause impatient on the shore till the 

3 T 2 



508 CORNWA LLIS MA R CHE8 IN P URS UIT OF GREENE. [1 781. 

fugitive corps were out of danger, and tlie prisoners were sent forward out of 
the risk of recapture. 

No sooner had Greene heard of the battle of the Cowpens, than, antici- 
pating that Cornwallis would pursue, he despatched his main body, under 
General Huger, by a direct route towards Salisbury, and then set out with 
a few dragoons to meet Morgan, and assume the command of his division. 
The river meanwhile had subsided, and Cornwallis prepared to cross over, 
while his adversaries endeavoured to delay the passage to the utmost, in 
order to gain time for the main army to advance beyond the reach of pur- 
suit. Lest this should happen, the English general determined to force a 
passage ; and, after making a feint at different spots, on the morning of the 
1st of February, appeared at Gowan's Ford, guarded by General Davidson 
and three hundred men. The English advanced with intrepidity into the 
stream, which was broad, deep, and full of impediments ; and, in spite of a 
heavy fire, succeeded in gaining the opposite shore and forming in order of 
battle. A smart action ensued, in which Davidson and thirty men were killed, 
and a corps of militia who endeavoured to make a stand, routed and dispersed 
by Tarleton's cavalry. 

Beth armies now continued the race towards the Yadkin, the next con- 
siderablu river in the direction of Virginia. The country was inundated with 
rain ; the roads, consisting of tough clay with large stones, were so cut up as 
to be almost impassable. Greene and Morgan nevertheless pushed forward 
so fast that they succeeded in passing the broad and rapid Yadkin before the 
English could overtake them. The pursuit Avas, however, so close that the 
van-guard captured some of the American waggons. All the boats that 
Greene could collect he conveyed to the opposite shore. 

Cornwallis came up and prepared to pass. And here again occurred another 
remarkable delay, which might well appear providential to the republicans. 
Just as the English arrived, the waters of the Yadkin rose as suddeuiy as 
those of the Catawba, and occasioned a further detention. Greene profited 
by the delay to push on to Guildford Court House, where, with Morgan's 
corps, he joined the main army, which had been sent forward under G^-neral 
Huger. Thus, owing to their extraordinary activity, aided by the .judden 
rising of the rivers, all the sacrifices and exertions of Cornwallis to prevent 
a junction of their forces had proved ineffectual. 

Bitterly disappointed, that active officer lost not a moment in improving 
what chances were still open to him. Could he but intercept the Americans 
before they reached the Dan, and prevent their crossing into Virginia, he 
might compel them to fight, and retrieve his misfortunes by a signal victory. 
The lower part of this river, swollen by the rains, Cornwallis believed to be 
impassable, and he therefore hastened to occupy the fords higher up its course, 
before the Americans could reach them. By great efforts he succeeded in 
doing so, and it now seemed that this lengthened and weary pursuit must ter- 
minate in the capture or defeat of his adversary. 

It was indeed the critical moment with Greene, and he summoned his whole 



1781.] GREENE SUCCEEDS IN REACHING VIRGINIA. 509 

energies to surmount the imminent peril wliich threatened his army — upon 
the existence of which, as he was well aware, hung the fate of all the southern, 
provinces. His forces were still too weak to encounter those of Cornwallis, 
and his only chance lay in the continuance of retreat. But could he be cer- 
tain of effecting it ? Cut off from the upper fords, he was obliged to attempt 
Irwin's feriy, at a point lower down the river, uncertain whether he should 
find it in a fordable condition, and whether the royal army, pressing after him 
with desperate speed, might not overwhelm him before he could even reach 
its shores. To cover his retreat, he organized a rear-guard of select troops, 
and confided them to the command of Colonel Williams, with orders to take 
post between the retreating and advancing army, to hover round the skirts of 
the latter, to seize every opportunity of striking it in detail, and of retard- 
ing its progress. And admirably did that officer fulfil the trust reposed in 
him. So close and uninterrupted was the pursuit, that one meal a-day was 
all that the soldiers could pause to snatch ; and out of forty-eight hours, but 
six could be spared to restore the fatigues of the rest. The British and 
American soldiers vied with each other in suffering and endurance during this 
long and fearful race. Worn out with unavailing conflict, the pursuers and 
pursued, close upon each other, paused as if by common consent, except in 
crossing a stream or passing a defile. The American rear-guard, most of 
whom were destitute of shoes, tracked the soil with blood as they pursued 
their painful march. By accomplishing forty miles in twenty-four hours, 
they at length succeeded in reaching the river shortly after Greene had 
crossed over, and rejoined their companions in safety upon the opposite shore, 
just as the van-guard of the British appeared in sight. 

Having failed to capture his antagonist, Cornwallis resolved at least to as- 
sume the merit of having expelled him from the conquered province. March- 
ing to Hillsborough, the late seat of the State government, the authorities fled 
before him to jSTewbern. He had sacrificed much of his supplies, his force 
was weakened, and he was a perilous distance from his base of operations. He 
set up his standard, and urged the loyalists to repair to It ; but overawed by 
the vicinity of Greene's army, they at first came forward so tardily, that he 
publicly complained of their apathy. This state of things was well known 
to his watchful adversary, who, aware that Tarleton had been sent out to 
encourage and organize the royalists, despatched Colonel Lee across the Dan 
to Intercept any bodies marching to join him. Scarcely had Lee started, when 
he suddenly fell In with a body of five hundred Tories under the command of 
Colonel Pyle, marching with so little order or foresight, that they threw them- 
selves into the midst of his corps with loud and reiterated cries of " Long live 
the king!" The sabres of the Americans soon covlnced them of their fatal 
mistake. They were cut to pieces without mercy, and the few fugitives that 
escaped the bloody scene, dispersed panic-stricken through the neighbour- 
hood, each protesting that he alone had escaped. Those who were about to 
join Cornwallis were struck with dismay, and did not venture to rise and re- 
pair to his standard. 



610 THE BATTLE OF OUILDFORD COURT HOUSE. [1781. 

To keep up this discouragement, Greene now ventured to recross the 
Dan, although he had received but a small part of his expected succours from 
Virginia. He moved into the district between the Haw and Deep rivers, 
inhabited principally by loyalists, who were thus effectually kept in aAve. To 
counteract this influence, Cornwallis followed in pursuit, labouring incessantly 
to compel his antagonist to engage. But Greene was too wary to give this 
advantage to an adversary whose position was getting every day more preca- 
rious, while his own was as rapidly improving. Throwing, therefore, in front 
his light corps, he kept up a series of marches, countermarches, feints, and 
stratagems, that utterly baffled the most strenuous exertions of Cornwallis. He 
never communicated to any one the day beforehand where his next encampment 
would be, and yet, such was the activity of his scouts, was never many hours 
at a time without a correct knowledge of the position of his foe. During 
these erratic movements he was often obliged to beg bread of his own soldiers. 

Worn out with a fruitless and harassing ch ise, Cornwallis paused awhile 
at Bell's Mills, while Greene took up a post where he could maintain com- 
munications with Virginia. By degrees his expected succours arrived ; and 
with sixteen hundred continentals and as many militia as raised his army to 
four thousand five hundred men, he found himself at the head of a force 
more than double that of Cornwallis. He determined, therefore, to seek and 
engage him, convinced that, even should the issue be unfavourable to him, the 
British general must relatively be more crippled than himself. Cornwallis 
was also fully sensible of the increasing difficulties of his position, which even 
a victory could hardly retrieve, while defeat must prove ruinous and fatal. 
Confident in the superiority of his troops, he nevertheless, rather than retreat, 
resolved to accept the challenge of his adversary. 

The two armies met near Guildford Court House, on the 15th of March, 
in a country almost covered with trees and underwood. Greene drew up 
his first and second lines on a wooded hill, with an open field in front. 
The first consisted of North Carolina militia, the second of Virginian, while 
behind were posted the continentals ; Colonel AVashington, with his horse, 
being prepared to act as circumstances might point out. As the British ad- 
vanced to the charge, the first line of militia broke and fled through the woods; 
the second behaved somewhat better, but eventually gave way ; and the real 
battle now began between the regular troops of both armies, Avho contested 
the irregular and broken ground with the extreme of fierceness and obstinacy. 
The rival commanders exerted themselves in an extraordinary manner, and 
were exposed to the greatest personal risk. Stuart's battalion of the guards, 
while in pursuit of an American regiment, being charged by "Washington's horse, 
was retreating in disorder, when Cornwallis came up, and ordered the artillery 
to open upon the pursuing cavalry, even through the ranks of his own fugi- 
tives. Brigadier O'Hara remonstrated, declaring that the fire would destroy 
themselves. " True," replied CornAvallis, " but this is a necessary evil, which 
we must endure to arrest impending destruction." This cannonade, in fact, 
turned the tide of victory : the Americans retired, and finding himself hard 



1781.] GREENE MARCHES INTO SOUTH CAROLINA. 511 

pressed, and his artillery captured, Greene, whose policy forbade him to risk 
the total destruction of his army, directed a retreat, while it could yet be ef- 
fected with order and security. He had lost four hundred men upon the field, 
and the fugitive militia for the most part returned to their families. On his 
part Cornwallis had lost five hundred men, among whom was Colonel Webster, 
one of the most gallant and accomplished officers of the army. The British 
had marched and fought without eating ; there were no provisions in the camp, 
and they only received a small allowance on the evening of the day after. 

Crippled in every way, so far was the English general from being able to 
profit by his victory, that he was compelled to fall back to subsist his troops. 
His flanks were harassed by Greene's light corps ; and that general was only 
refreshing his army in order to fight him a second time. After a painful 
march, Cornwallis reached Wilmington. Vaunting, as a political manoeuvre, 
his recent victory, he called upon the inhabitants to repair to his standard, 
but Math even less success than before. His star was no longer in the ascend- 
ant; his indefatigable opponent had only fled to turn again upon his pursuer, 
and at this very time was meditating a daring attempt to recover the provinces 
so lately overrun by his rival. 

After a council held with his officers, Greene boldly resolved to march 
into South Carolina, leaving Virginia to be defended by her own resources 
and such as Washington could add to them. The former State was then 
held by Lord Rawdon with a small force at Camden, and by a series of posts, 
which formccl at once rallying-places for Tories and depots of stores and pro- 
visions. As the miseries of this civil conflict had almost prevented cultivation 
and ravaged the open country, Greene purposed, by striking at these posts 
in detail, at once to recover his influence in the country and subsist his own 
troops with the stores intended for his enemy. 

Takina: himself the main road towards Camden, he detached Colonel Lee 
to effect a junction with Marion, cut off" Rawdon's communications with 
Charleston, and capture any posts that might be open to a successful attack. 
By this means the British position at Camden became one of extreme diffi- 
culty, especially as Cornwallis, concluding that he was leaving behind him a 
force sufficient for the defence of the south, had, after consulting his officers, 
resolved to march to the conquest of Virginia, now left uncovered by the de- 
parture of Greene. 

The latter general — Sumpter having failed to join him as desired — being too 
weak to attack Camden, took up a position at Hobkirk's Hill, about two miles 
distant, to intercept Rawdon's supplies and prevent his receiving reinforce- 
ments. Meanwhile, several of the smaller posts were successively recovered 
by Lee and INIarion, and Rawdon felt that he must either strike a blow at 
the army which hung menacingly above him, or retire from his own position. 
He determined therefore to attempt the surprise of Greene's camp. 

' The American army was posted on a woody ridge, protected on one side 
by a swamp. Never perhaps was Greene so near being taken imawares. 
Some provisions had just been served out, and the troops were engaged in 



512 A ME RICA N8 REP ULSED A T FOR T NINETT-SIX. [1781. 

washing their clothes, when Hawdon stealthily advanced along the edge of 
the morass, and drove in the American picquets, who raised the alarm only 
just in time to enable Greene to form his line of battle. Observing that, 
from the nature of the ground, the assailants presented a very narrow front, 
Greene despatched two regiments to turn their flanks, but Rawdon brought 
up a reserve in time to frustrate the meditated manoeuvre. The action was 
now maintained on both sides with great spirit, till Gunby's veteran jNIary- 
land regiment gave way, and threw the whole line into confusion, upon 
which Greene was obliged to retreat. Fortunately for the Americans, they 
possessed a superiority in cavaliy, or the defeat might have been decisive. 
This disaster proved but a very trifling check to Greene's plan of operations. 
After vainly seeking to bring his adversary to battle, Rawdon, finding that all 
the posts were falling into the hands of the Americans, that his commu- 
nications were cut off", and the republicans again rapidly rising, evacuated 
Camden, and, followed by a number of fugitive Tories, retired towards 
Charleston, taking up a position at Monk's Corner. 

Greene now marched to reduce the fort of Ninety-six, the principal re- 
maining stronghold of the British influence except Charleston. Here, 
however, he was destined to meet with a repulse. The garrison, commanded 
by Colonel Cruger, defended themselves with extraordinary spirit. The 
Americans were obliged to invest the place in form, under the direction of 
Kosciusko, and Greene had nearly carried his works to completion, when he ob- 
tained the unwelcome intelligence, that Rawdon, who had just received succours 
from England, was rapidly coming up to raise the siege. Repeated attempts 
had been made to send word of his approach to the garrison, but all his ex- 
presses were cut off" by the vigilance of the American scouts. " At length," 
says Colonel Lee, " one evening, a countryman was seen riding along our 
lines south of the town, conversing familiarly with the offkers and soldiers on 
duty. He was not regarded, as from the beginning of the siege our friends in 
the country were in the habit of visiting the camp, and were permitted to go 
wherever their curiosity led them, one of whom this man was jiresumed to 
be. At length he reached the great road leading directly to the town, in 
which quarter were only some batteries thrown up for the protection of the 
guards. Putting spur to his horse, he rushed with full speed into the town, 
receiving the ineffectual fire of our centinels and guards nearest to him, and 
holding up a letter in his hand, as soon as he cleared himself of the fire. 
The propitious signal gave joy to the garrison, who running to meet their 
friend, opened the gate, welcoming his arrival with loud expressions of joy. 
He was the bearer of a despatch from Lord Rawdon to Cruger, communicating 
his arrival at Orangeburg in adequate force, and informing him that he was 
hastening to his relief. This intelligence infused new vigour into the intrepid 
leader and his brave companions. 

Nothing now remained but to try the chance of an assault, to meet 
Rawdon, or retire. Prompted by the ardour of the troops, Greene determined 
to try the former alternative ; but after consummate bravery on both sides. 



1781.] GREENE RETIRES TO THE HILLS OF SANTEE. 513 

tlie issue was unfavourable, and after a siege of twenty-nine days, lie was 
compelled to retreat across the Saluda before the advancing forces of Hawdon, 
who pursued him as far as the Ennoree. Disheartened at this reverse, some 
of his friends advised him to abandon South Carolina and repair for safety to 
the north, but with stedfast determination he replied, " I will recover the 
country, or perish in the attempt." No sooner, therefore, had Rawdon turned 
his back, than he again hovered about his flanks, and by his continual pre- 
sence compelled the English commander to contract his line of defence, 
evacuate Ninety-six, and retire to Or^geburg, with a host of Tory families, 
thus driven to seek shelter in his caaip. 

The sultry season had now arrived, and both sides were glad to pause 
awhile from the toils of this terrible campaign. In the words of his bi- 
ographer, " Since the commencement of January, the army of Greene 
had experienced nothing bat an uninterrupted series of exertioUj toil, ex- 
posure, and battle. It is believed that a more active or, for the number of 
troops engaged, a more eventful campaign, is no where recorded in military 
history. Nor had adverse fortune been backward in her approaches, or light 
in her visitations. The Americans had been twice defeated in general action ; 
once repulsed from the lines of a fortress ; and twice compelled to consult 
their safety in a rapid, arduous, and extensive retreat. Notwithstanding 
this, their hopes were sanguine, and their confidence unshaken ; because 
the genius of their commander, still converting misfortune into prosperity, 
and deriving from defeat the advantages of victory, was conducting them with 
certainty to conquest and triumph. Already had they captured most of the 
enemy's posts, turned against him the tide of war, so as to place him com- 
pletely on the defensive, and wrested from his hand a large proportion of the 
conquered territory. But the season was now hot and the troops were be- 
coming sickly. General Greene, therefore, resolved on retiring to a secure 
and healthy position, to indulge his army in a short repose, that, their health 
being restored and their strength renovated, they might be the better pre- 
pared to act with vigour in their future operations. 

" Selecting for this purpose the high hills of Santee, where the air is pure, 
the water excellent, and, in consequence of the elevation of the ground, the 
heats less oppressive, he encamped there about the middle of July." 

Finding the spirit of opposition, which they had supposed to be finally 
crushed, thus awcikening into fresh activity, the British generals resolved to 
exert the utmost severity towards those who dared to raise anew the banner 
of their country's independence, though there were not wanting many among 
the royal officers who opposed such proceedings, as alike impolitic and 
inhuman. 

The fate of Colonel Isaac Hayne Inspired a feeling of bitter indignation 
throughout the States. He had Avarmly espoused the cause of independence, 
and during the siege of Charleston had served in a volunteer company of 
light horse. After the capitulation he surrendered himself prisoner of war, 
but under threat of a long imprisonment was induced to take the oath of 

3 u 



614 DEATH OF COLONEL ISAAC HAYNE. [1781. 

illcgiance to the British, under the special condition that he should not be 
required to bear arms against his country. When, however, the Americans 
vigorously resumed the offensive, he was required to associate himself with 
the royal troops, an order which his patriotism would not allow him to obey. 
Nay more, considering that by this bicach of the promises made to him his 
parole was become null, he willingly listened to the entreaties of his coun- 
trymen, and a second time took up arms against the English, He was soon 
after taken prisoner, and immediately condemned to death. 

Tliis sentence, the dictate of a ruthless military policy, was inexorably 
carried into execution. Nothing could shake the determination of Lord 
Kawdon. In vain did even the loyalists themselves intercede in his behalf. 
In vain did the sister and motherless children of the prisoner throw them- 
selves at his feet in all the agonies of grief; all that could be obtained was a 
respite of eight and forty hours in consideration of " Hayne's humane treat- 
ment of the British prisoners who had fallen into his hands." Surrounded 
during these fleeting hours by sorrowing friends and weeping children, whose 
mother he had lately consigned to the tomb, he displayed the most heroic 
fortitude. Having arranged his papers, on the arrival of the fatal morning he 
called his eldest son, only thirteen years of age, and desired him to see them 
forwarded to his brother. " Go then," he said to the poor boy, " to the place 
of execution, receive my body, and see it decently interred Avith my fore- 
fathers." Bestowing his last embrace and blessing, he firmly advanced to 
meet his fate. Like Andre, he had prayed to die the death of a soldier, but 
as he approached the place of execution, the fatal gallows proved to him that 
his prayer had passed unheeded. A momentary shock was felt, but one of his 
friends whispering to him, " You will now exhibit an example of the manner 
in which an American can die," he calmly replied, " I will endeavour to do 
so." Taking an affectionate leave of his friends, he ascended the cart, drew 
the cap over his eyes, and amidst the tears of the spectators, died witli a forti- 
tude that shed an heroic lustre over what Avas intended, as an ignominious 
doom. Leaving behind him an unenviable reputation for merciless severity. 
Lord Bawdon now departed for Europe, leaving the army under the command 
of Colonel Stuart. 

During the oppressive heats Greene continued on the salubrious Santee 
Hills, engaged in exercising his army and rendering it more capable of en- 
countering that of the enemy, against whom he determined to advance. On 
the 21st of August, having received a supply of horses for his cavalry, he 
left his encampment, and taking a circuitous direction, fell in with the English 
army at the Eutaw Springs. Here, on the morning of the 8th of September, 
was fought one of the bloodiest and most obstinately contested engagements 
during the whole war. The number of the combatants was about equal, and 
the struggle was maintained on both sides with obstinate valour and varying 
success. Both parties resorted to the bayonet, and used it with equal skill and 
determination, many individuals of both armies being mutually transfixed 
with the deadly weapon. At length the English left, attacked simultaneously 



1781.] THE BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. ^5 

in front and flank, gave way, covered by the English infantry under Major 
Marjoribanks. Colonel Washington, being sent to charge him with his 
cavalry, got entangled in an almost impervious thicket, and was wounded 
and taken prisoner, and his detachment obliged to withdraw. As the broken 
English left fell back, they threw themselves into a large brick-house, which 
enabled Stuart to rally his troops and reorganize his line of battle. This 
interruption cut short the progress of the Americans, and turned against them 
the tide of success. Greene's troops in vain attempted to force an entry, 
and even his artillery failed to dislodge the English. Their whole line now 
advanced, and having recovered the ground from which they had been driven, 
proceeded no further, while Greene also withdrew his troops. Both parties 
claimed a victory, and in proportion to their numbers their loss was about 
equal. But all the advantage was in favour of Greene, who, after falling back 
a few miles in quest of water, again advanced in quest of his enemy. Crip- 
pled as he was by this engagement, and fearing lest he should be cut off from 
Charleston, Colonel Stuart returned to Monk's Corner, his rear-guard being 
harassed by Marion and Lee. Thus by the persevering policy of Greene 
were the English at length restricted to a narrow corner of Carolina, the 
whole of which they had so recently overran as conquerors. Unable to pur- 
sue his advantages, owing to the weakness and almost destitution of his army, 
he returned to his encampment on the high hills of Santee. 

The state of affairs in Virginia next demand our attention. Shortly after 
the unhappy affair of Andre, Arnold, anxious at once to display his new-born 
loyalty and gloze over his despicable treachery, put forth>an " Address to the In- 
habitants of America." Admitting that he was among the first to oppose the 
aggressions of Great Britain, so soon as that country had evinced a desire for 
accommodation, and Congress had displayed an unwarrantable stubbornness, 
he had resolved to return to his allegiance. He dwelt upon the party spirit 
with which the national assembly was distracted, and denounced the unnatural 
alliance with the French, aliens alike in blood, manners, and religion. He 
concluded his " Address " with offering three guineas to every private soldier 
who should desert, and to the officers a similar rank in the British army to that 
which they held in the American. This manifesto, which totally failed in its 
object, was received with indignation and disgust, and Arnold was reminded 
that no one so much as himself had courted and flattered the French ambas- 
sador, until baffled in his base endeavour to obtain from him a sum of money, 
under the convenient title of a loan. 

That vigour and activity which had formerly won him the admiration of his 
countrymen, were now employed in injuring them. With sixteen hundred 
troops he set sail for Virginia, ascended the James river, and before resistance 
could be offered, had ravaged Richmond and carried off a considerable booty. 
Washington, anxious to effect his capture, sent Lafayette to co-operate with 
Baron Steuben, then in Virginia, and, at his request, the whole French fleet 
soon after sailed from Newport with a body of troops on board. Pursued, 
hoAvever , by the British blockading fleet, after an indecisive engagement they 

3 u 2 



516 CORNWALLIS OVERRUSS VIRGINIA. [1781. 

were compelled to regain Newport, while the British fleet, carrying an 
additional body of troops under General Phillips, entered the Chesapeake, 
and effected a junction with Arnold's corps. 

The coasts of Virginia were now exposed to the requisitions of the British 
ships for plunder and provisions. One of these vessels entered the Poto- 
mac, and sent a demand for supplies to Washington's agent and relative 
in charge at Mount Vernon. On learning that they had been furnished, 
Washington wrote a letter expressive of his great dissatisfaction. " It would 
have been a less painful circumstance to me," he observes, " to have heard 
that in consequence of your non-compliance with their request they had 
burnt my house, and laid the plantation in ruins. You ought to have con- 
sidered yourself as my representative, and should have reflected on the bad 
example of communicating with the enemy, and making a voluntary offer of 
refreshments to them, with a view to prevent a conflagration." 

But these predatory expeditions, that could only annoy and irritate a people 
whom it had been found impossible to subdue, this waste of blood and trea- 
sure to maintain a contest evidently hopeless, were, happily for both parties, 
fast approaching their termination. The closing scene of this long and ob- 
stinate struggle was now at hand. 

It will be remembered that Lord CornwaJlis, in consequence of Greene's 
bold inroad upon the Carolinas, resolved to leave those provinces to be de- 
fended by the forces stationed there, and to carry his arms into Virginia. In 
pursuance of this plan, he crossed the Roanoke, and soon after effected a 
junction with the corps under Phillips, being besides reinforced by four regi- 
ments from New York, thus largely outnumbering the feeble force com- 
manded by La Fayette, who, retiring before him, succeeded in joining the 
Pennsylvania troops under Wayne, At the approach of the British general, 
the assembly of Virginia adjourned from Richmond to Charlottesville. By 
the activity of Tarleton, however, several members were captured, and Jeffer- 
son himself had a very narrow escape. Destroying arms and stores, and 
ravaging the country before them, the British troops continued to advance, 
followed however by La Fayette, who, with a judgment that would have done 
honour to a veteran commander, continued to hang upon the skirts and harass 
the progress of his able and powerful adversary. While thus overrunning 
Virginia, Cornwallis received an order from Sir Henry Clinton, then ex- 
i:)ecting an attack upon New York, to send him a detachment of his army, 
and after a smart skirmish with La Fayette, had reached Portsmouth, and 
actually embarked the troops, when he received a counter-order from his 
chief, who in the mean while had been relieved by reinforcements from 
England. According to his new instructions he was to retain the troops and 
establish himself at Portsmouth, where he could easily co-operate with an ex- 
pected fleet. This station appearing, however, less favourable for the purpose 
than Yorktown, Cornwallis shortly after removed thither with his entire 
army, and diligently proceeded to throw up intrenchments to secure his new 
position. 



irSL] WASHINGTON'S PLANS FOR TAKING NEW YORK. 517 

Tlie Frencli troops under Roclianibeau were still at Newport, where 
tliey had remained inactive ever since their landing, and Washington and 
his army occupied the neighbourhood of the Highlands, when the welcome 
news arrived, that a powerful French fleet, commanded by the Count de 
Grasse, might shortly be expected on the American coasts. The favourite 
design of Washington, in which he had been so often disappointed, and 
which, could it be realized, would have proved a decisive and brilliant term- 
ination of the war, now seemed as if within the reach of accomplishment. An 
express was sent to the Count de Grasse, requesting him to direct his course 
to New York. E.ochambcau's troops were marched to the Hudson, where 
they effected a junction with those of Washington. Thus was the city sur- 
rounded on the land side, and the arrival of De Grasse, to co-operate with the 
attack by sea, was expected with the greatest anxiety. After remaining in 
this state of high-wrought suspense for several weeks, Washington received 
despatches announcing that it was not the intention of the French admiral to 
come to New York, but repair to the Chesapeake, and that his stay upon the 
coast must necessarily be brief. Here seemed to occur another instance of 
the futility of French co-o^ieration which had so often disappointed the hopes 
of the Americans. Never, it is said, was Washington more distressed and 
agitated than on the receipt of this despatch. His attendants were obliged to 
leave him, and shut up in his own chamber, he gave way for a while to the 
uncontrollable excitement of his feelings. His wonted self-command, how- 
ever, soon recovered the ascendancy, and he nov.^ applied all his energies to 
improve the opening afforded him by this new and unexpected turn of 
affairs. 

The plan he formed was to march upon Virginia, and with the expected 
succours enclose Cornwallis by land, while the fleet of De Grasse blockaded 
the river and prevented him from receiving help by sea. As Clinton and 
Cornwallis were alike unsuspicious and ignorant of his design, to the success 
of which secrecy and despatch were above all essential, every possible arti- 
fice was made use of to conceal it. Batteries were established in New Jersey 
as if for extensive operations, surveys carried on, and other contrivances re- 
sorted to. But what especially served to cast a film over the eyes of Clinton, 
was the receipt of letters he had been artfully allowed ta -iitercept. The 
bearer of one of these, a young man named Montagnie, was directed by 
Washington to proceed to Morristown by the way of the Ramapo Pass. 
Knowing it to be infested by the Cow-boys, he ventured to suggest that he 
should be sent some other road. " Your duty, young man," said Wash- 
ington, stamping his foot, " is not to talk, but to obey." He set off, and, as 
he anticipated, was captured and thrown into prison at New York. His 
despatches, which contained the plan of an attack upon the city, were taken 
from him, and next day made their appearance in the gazette. Clinton was 
thoroughly bamboozled, and so fully satisfied that New York was the point 
about to be menaced, that even when Washington began to march his troops 
to the southward, he regarded it merely as a feint in order to throw him off 



518 WASHINGTON GOES TO THE SOUTH. [1781. 

Ills guard, and hugging himself Avith malicious satisfaction, remained securely 
within his defences. 

Profiting by this illusion, which he could not expect would long continue, 
Washington, having directed the formation of depots and transports at differ- 
ent points on the line of march, and ordered La Fayette to take up a position 
so as to intercept Cornwallis in case of his retreat, rapidly advanced toward 
the scene of action. Having crossed the Jerseys and reached Philadelphia, a 
serious, and what might have been a fatal, interruption to their progress oc- 
curred. The soldiers of the eastern and middle States evinced great disinclin- 
ation to march southward, and to put them in good humour, it was highly desir- 
able to advance them a month's pay in specie. But the treasury was em2:»ty, 
and had it not been for Rochambeau, who advanced Morris a sufficient loan 
from the French military chest, to be replaced Avitliin thirty days, the con- 
sequences might have proved extremely serious. At this critical moment, 
Laurens arrived from France, after a successful mission, with a large supply 
of clothing, arms, ammunition, and specie. While the army pursued its 
march, Washington, accompanied by Rochambcau, paid a hurried visit to 
Mount Vernon, whither he was so soon to retire accompanied by the bless- 
ings of his countrymen, for the first time during his long and anxious struggle 
of more than six years. Both generals then repaired to the camp of La Fayette 
at Williamsburg ; where they awaited wdth intense anxiety the news of De 
Grasse's arrival, which after all might be entirely frustrated by a superiority 
of the English at sea. 

In truth, the English admiral. Lord Rodney, expecting that a portion, though 
not the whole, of the French fleet would proceed to the coast of America, 
had despatched Hood with fourteen ships of the line to reinforce the squad- 
ron of Graves, the commander of the English fleet. On the 25th of August, 
Hood arrived oflf the Chesapeake, and not finding his superior admiral, 
directed his course to New York. No sooner had he arrived there, than the 
news came that Du Barras, commander of the French fleet at Newport, had 
put to sea to effect a junction with the expected fleet of De Grasse. The 
English admiral-in-chief now sailed to prevent, if possible, this junction, 
and had reached the entrance to the Chesapeake, when he found De Grasse's 
fleet of twenty-four ships of the line at anchor within Cape Henry. Three 
thousand troops had already been landed, and some ships sent i;p the river 
to blockade Cornwallis in Yorktown. The French admiral stood out to 
sea, and for five days artfully kept up a distant engagement, until assured 
that Barras also had safely entered the river, when he returned to his original 
position. Unsuccessful in his object, the English admiral was obliged to 
return disappointed to New York. 

Thus, while Lord Cornwallis was daily expecting the co-operation of an Eng- 
lish fleet, he suddenl)'-, to his astonishment, found himself blockaded both by 
land and sea. After so many abortive attempts at co-operation, the French and 
American forces, by this extraordinary concurrence of circumstances, so skil- 
fully improved by Washington, were about to strike a final and decisive blow. 



1781.] C0RNWALLI8 BLOCKADED IN YORKTOWN. 519 

The town of York, standing on an eminence above the river of that name, 
had, by the labours of the English troops, been rendered as strong as possible. 
Flanked and half-encircled on the right by a marshy ravine, it was access- 
ible only by a limited space, defended by strong lines flanked by a redoubt 
and bastion. On the opposite side of the river, here about a mile across, 
was Gloucester Point, defended by Colonel Tarleton with a body of cavalry. 

As soon as De Grasse had arrived, Washington repaired on board and 
concerted with him the plan of operations. Transports were sent for the 
American troops, who speedily joined those already before the place. The 
Americans were stationed on the right hand, the French upon the left, in a 
semicircular line extending on each side to the river. The post at Gloucester 
■was merely blockaded ; but around York, the besieging army immediately 
began to construct regular approaches. 

Strong as was the force by which he was invested, Cornwallis was at first 
but little uneasy. The film having fallen from the eyes of Sir Henry 
Clinton, he determined to strain every nerve to throw succours into Yorktown, 
and had despatched a messenger with a letter in secret cipher, who suc- 
ceeded in eludina: the watchfulness of the American sentinels. This missive 
in-formed Cornwallis, that but for the damage sustained by Graves' ships he 
would at once repair to his assistance, but that by the 5th of October, as he 
hoped, they should be on their way to him with a fleet and army. Building 
somewhat too confidently on these anticipations, Cornwallis withdrew his 
troops from the outer line of defences, and concentrated them within the 
narrow limits of Yorktown. 

In order to create a diversion, and if possible induce Washington to with- 
draw a portion of his troops, Arnold, just returned from Virginia, was de- 
spatched with a considerable force, consisting chiefly of Hessians and Tories, 
to make a descent upon the New England coasts. Landing near the flourish- 
ing town of New London, and finding but little opposition from the militia, 
they set the town and shipping on fire ; Arnold, it is said, standing in a 
church belfry to witness the conflagration. On the opposite side the river 
was Fort Griswold, into Avhich the militia had retreated, and which might 
have facilitated the escape of a portion of the shipping. Arnold, therefore, 
ordered it to be reduced. After being summoned in vain to surrender, it 
was attacked with great spirit, but just as bravely defended; and it was not 
until the British had sustained a heavy loss that they succeeded in effecting 
an entrance by storm. Colonel Ledyard, the commandant, now ordered his 
men to throw down their arms. One of the British officers, mortally wounded 
in the attack, had exhorted his comrades, in dying, to kill every man in the fort. 
Exasperated at the protracted defence and the loss of several officers, the 
British, instead of respecting the bravery of the defendants, commenced an 
indiscriminate massacre. "Who commands this garrison?" shouted, as he 
entered. Major Bromfield, a New Jersey loyalist, at the head of the attacking 
party. " I did, sir, but you do now," said Ledyard, presenting his sword, with 
which his savage captor instantly ran him through the body. The place was 



520 CRUELTIES OF GENERAL ARNOLD. [1781. 

ancle deep in blood, and the slaughter went on till one of the officers exclaimed, 
" My soul can no longer bear this' butchery." Seventy men were killed and 
thirty-five more dangerously wounded ; some of the latter were put into a 
baggage waggon, v/hich was then thrust doAvn the rugged surface of the hill, 
in the hope that it might plunge into the river and get rid of the poor wretches 
by a general noyade. The jolting of the waggon killed some outright and 
horribly tortured others, until arrested in its course by a tree. The prisoners 
were then taken out and confined all night in a neighbouring house, suffering, 
jn addition to tlieir other agonies, the extremities of thirst, until relieved next 
mornhig by Fanny Ledyard, niece to the murdered colonel, who came to their 
succour Avith a supply of necessaries. After these proceedings, as barbarous 
as they Avere useless in a military point of view, Arnold and his companions 
returned to New York. The prisoners killed in cold blood after surrender, 
he represented in his despatch as having been found dead in the fort. As 
this was one of the most wanton inroads during the war, so hajipily it also 
proved to be the last. 

To return to the siege of Yorktown ; the besiegers, having completed 
their works, upon which they mounted a hundred pieces of cannon, opened a 
most destructive fire upon a place utterly inadequate to sustain it. Their 
balls even flew over the toAvn into the river, and set on fire an English 
frigate auvd several transports. Cornwallis now received a second letter from 
Clinton, regretting that the departure of the promised reinforcements must in- 
evitably be delayed until the twelfth. Hereupon several of his officers sug- 
gested a timely evacuation, but he was unwilling to surrender while any 
chance of succour yet remained. Meanwhile the enemy, animated by the 
prospect of a speedy triumph, pushed their operations Avith such energy, that 
they Avere soon Avithin three hundred yards of the place. Severely annoyed 
by the English redoubts, so placed as to enfilade their Avorks, it Avas resolved, 
if possible, to carry them by storm. The capture of one Avas confided to the 
Baron de Viosmenil and a party of French ; the other, consisting of American 
troops, Avas headed by La Fayette and Colonel Hamilton, the talented aide- 
de-camp of Washington. So Avarm Avas the emulation betAveen the two de- 
tachments, and so vigorous their assault, that both the redoubts were car- 
ried, and included Avithin the second parallel of the besiegers. CoruAA'allis, 
whose position noAV grcAv desperate, endeavoured to check their progress by 
a vigorous sortie ; but the advantage thus gained was but momentary, and 
he Avrote to Clinton, informing him that such Avas his distress, that it was 
hardly AA^orth Avliile running any great risk in endeavouring to bring him 
relief. 

As a last desperate chance, the advice before rejected was noAv acted iipon. 
On the night of the 16th, boats were prepared, and a portion of the army 
passed safely over to Gloucester Point. But as the second AA^as on its way, 
there arose a violent storm of Avind and rain, Avhich dispersed the embarkations 
tip and doAvn the river. As morning approached the tempest ceased, and the 
scattered barks made their Avay back to YorktoAvn. 







© 



w 



w 

s? 









1781.] SURRENDER OF YORETOWN. 521 

To hold out any longer could only create unnecessary suffering, without 
improving the chance of escape. The works were ruined, the guns silenced, 
and the fire of the enemy swept the place. The garrison Avas enfeebled by 
sickness, and the result of an assault could not be doubtful. Painful as it 
must have been to a commander Avho had marched triumphantly across the 
land to find himself thus conquered by inevitable circumstances, he had no 
alternative but to send next morning a flag of truce, proposing an armistice 
for twenty-four hours in order to arrange the terms of capitulation. 

As the British succours might arrive at any moment, only two hours were 
allowed to come to a decision. According to the terms proposed by the 
British general, the garrison were to marcli out as prisoners of war with 
the usual honours; and be transported to England. The only alteration 
required by Washington, was that they should be retained in the country 
until the conclusion of the war. No promises could be obtained in favour of 
the Tories, but Lord Cornwallis was allowed to send a ship to convey de- 
spatches to Sir Henry Clinton, which by agreement departed without ex- 
amination, and the unhappy refugees embraced this opportunity of retiring 
to New York. 

On the afternoon of the 19th of September, the British army marched out 
of Yorktown, and deposited their arms with the same formalities prescribed 
to the Americans on the surrender of Charleston. Lord Cornwallis was not 
present at the trying scene, but delegated to General O'Hara the task of 
surrendering his sword to General Lincoln. The whole number of prisoners, 
exclusive of seamen, rather exceeded seven thousand men, of whom three thou- 
sand were not fit for duty; the combined American and French forces, in- 
cluding militia, to about sixteen thousand. 

This brilliant success far transcended all previous anticipations, and, indeed, 
had Lord Cornwallis been able to hold out a little longer, (as he probably 
would had he not at an earlier period counted upon Clinton's arrival,) the 
affair might after all have taken a different turn. Only five days afterward 
the British fleet, conveying an army of seven thousand men, arrived off the 
mouth of the Chesapeake, but finding that Cornwallis had already surren- 
dered, returned disappointed to New York. 

It is said that the news of the surrender reached Philadelphia after the 
citizens had retired to rest, and that the watchmen, when proclaiming the 
midnight hour, added the startling intelligence, " Cornwallis is taken." The 
windows of the inhabitants flew up to assure themselves that what they heard 
was not a dream, and when assured of its reality, the candles were lighted, 
and the citizens, hastily throwing their clothes on, hurried into the streets, 
questioning, congratulating, and embracing each other. That night was not 
made for sleep. The tide of joy was too much for the bosom of one aged 
patriot, who, thanking God he had lived to see his hopes fulfilled, expired. 
AVhen morning dawned, and the glorious event was fully confirmed, the 
whole city was given up to rejoicing. The news flew like wildfire over the 
country, giving assurance to the people that the cause for which they had 

3 X 



522 RESIGNATION OF LORD NORTH. [1781. 

sufFerecl so much, and of which, in the dark hour of defeat, they had often 
been tempted to despair, was now, in sober earnest, at length about to 
prove triumphant. 

Although fully participating in feelings, which to him, who thus saw 
his toils rewarded, must have been inexpressibly sweeter, Washington 
was far from suffering his watchfulness to be lulled asleep. Brilliant 
as was the recent success, it might, nevertheless, fail to overcome the 
obstinacy of the English ministers. The war might be renewed, and 
Congress, and the people at large, tempted in the prospect of a speedy 
peace to relax from their long and arduous sacrifices, might be taken at a 
ruinous disadvantage. He therefore strenuously urged the necessity of 
keeping up the number of the troops, and maintaining a state of watchful 
preparation. He returned to the camp at Newburgh, and earnestly exerted 
himself, both by correspondence and personal labours, to place the army upon 
a footing efficient in case of the continuation of the war, and which by 
showing that the Americans were still on the alert, might assist in procuring 
an honourable peace. 

The surrender of Cornwallis proved the virtual termination o^' the war. 
So recently as the preceding January, the empress of Kussia had offered her 
mediation, which was accepted by Great Britain. Gates had just been de- 
feated in Carolina, and Congress, with the southern States, stating their will- 
ingness to be satisfied with something short of an express acknowledgment 
of independence, although the northern States strenuously opposed such a 
concession. But England haughtily refused to acknowledge, in any shape 
whatever, the independence of her revolted colonies, and the attempted medi- 
ation consequently proved abortive. Now, however, the case was changed. 
The surrender of another British army proved but too plainly the impossi- 
bility of subduing America, yet, stimulated by George III., still obstinately 
determined not to give way. Lord North ventured to propose a further con- 
tinuance of hostilities. The king's speech to parliament declared " that he 
should not answer the trust committed to the sovereign of a free people, if he 
consented to sacrifice either to his own desire of peace, or their temporary 
ease and relief, those essential rights and permanent interests, upon the main- 
tenance and preservation of which the future strength and security of the 
country must ever depend." The opposition moved, on the other hand, " that 
any further attempt to reduce the Americans by force would be ineffectual 
and injurious." The ministers gained only a majority of forty-one, which 
showed their parliamentary influence to be already on the wane. But the 
country was now heartily weary of the war, and the enormous expense it 
had entailed ; their murmurs gave increased energy to the opposition, and 
after rej^eated efforts, they lost only by a single vote a motion brought for- 
ward by General Conway, " declaring that whosoever should advise his Ma- 
jesty to any further prosecution of offensi^'e war against the colonies of North 
America should be considered as a public enemy." Thus situated^ Lord 
North had no alternative but to resign. 



1781.] ENGLAND A CKNO WLEDGES THE UNITED 8TA TES. S23 

The leader of the new ministry was the Marquis of Rockingham, who 
openly favoured the recognition of American independence. As Lord Shel- 
burne, who, on the death of the Marquis, succeeded to his office, was desirous 
of avoiding, if possible, this open dismemberment of the empire, endeavours 
were made to effect a separate treaty with America, without then insisting on 
this unpalatable ultiinatum. Indeed, if Franklin was rightly informed, the 
king still continued to insist upon this condition. Among his papers was 
found the following memorandum. " Immediately after the death of Lord 
Rockingham, the king said to Lord Shelburne, ' I will be plain with you, the 
point next to my heart, and which I am determined, be the consequence what 
it may, never to relinquish but with my crown and life, is to prevent a total, 
unequivocal recognition of the independence of America. Promise to sup- 
port me on this ground, and I will leave you unmolested on every other, and 
with full power as the prime minister of the kingdom.' The bargain was 
struck. No effort was spared by the English commissioners to effect this de- 
sired object, but the instructions of Congress to their agents rendered them 
entirely abortive. They refused to negociate unless in conjunction with 
France, and insisted upon the open recognition of independence as the indis- 
pensable basis of a treaty. 

At this juncture England received a salve for her wounded honour by 
the victory of Rodney over the fleet of De Grasse in the West Indies, one of 
the most splendid achievements in the long catalogue of her naval triumphs. 
Now that she had lost America, it was at least no small satisfaction to have 
thus effectually humbled the pride and repaid the interference of her ancient 
and inveterate foe. Neither had Spain any reason to congratulate herself upon 
espousing, however reluctantly, the cause of the Americans, since, after a 
long siege, in which the combined resources of herself and France had been 
exhausted, the flag of England still waved upon the impregnable rock of Gibral- 
tar. The Dutch had also suffered from the interruption of their commerce. 
England, in short, had nobly maintained her ancient prowess, and, if compel- 
led to yield to invincible circumstances, might console herself with the reflec- 
tion, that the territory she had lost had been wrested from her by her own 
undegenerate children. 

The king and ministry being no longer able to contend with the general 
feeling of the nation, an act of parliament was obtained, authorizing a negocia- 
tion with the colonies, which was presently opened at Paris by Mr. Oswald 
on the part of Great Britain, and Franklin, Jay, and Laurens on the part of 
the United States. As Vergennes, the French minister, hesitated to comply 
with the American claims to fish on the banks of Newfoundland, Frank- 
lin and Jay, at Oswald's suggestion, concluded a separate preliminary treaty 
with England. The sovereign independence of the United States was acknow- 
ledged, an unlimited right of the fisheries was conceded, and certain imaginary 
boundary lines agreed upon. This conclusion of a separate negociation was 
contrary to the instructions of Congress, who had required that every thing 
should be done in concert with their French allies, and it naturally gave 

3x2 



524 UNSETTLED STATE OF CO XG RES 8. [1781. 

offence to Yergennes, wlio, however, speedily gave his assent, and on the 
ord of September, 1783, the treaty was definitively signed. 

During this interval the feelings of Washington were exposed to a painful 
trial. The end of the war was now in prospect, and yet, amidst the general 
exultation, the officers, their pay several months in arrear, were suffering 
the most intolerable distress. Promises had indeed been made to them by 
Congress, at Washington's earnest entreaties, of enjoying a half-pay for life ; 
but if they had been neglected by that body while engaged in active service, 
it was feared that, when independence was achieved, they might be cast 
aside unrewarded and forgotten by an ungrateful country. Knowing that 
the negligence of Congress arose from the limited and uncertain nature of its 
powers, they feared not only for their own rights, but, perhaps, also for their 
country's safety under the existence of republican government ; and they were 
tempted to meditate, under the auspices of their venerated chief, what they 
believed would be a firmer and more energetic system. Colonel Nicola, an 
officer through whom the distresses of the army had often been made known 
to Washington, was now made the organ of a proposal which might have ex- 
cited the ambition of one of less pure and disinterested patriotism. After 
exposing the disadvantages of a republican government, and the desirableness 
of a limited monarchy, this writer proceeded £.s follows : " In this case it will, I 
believe, be uncontroverted, that the same abilities which have led us through 
difficulties, apparently insurmountable by human power, to victory and glory, 
those qualities that have merited and obtained the universal esteem and 
veneration of an army, would be most likely to conduct and direct us in the 
smoother paths of peace. Some people have so connected the ideas of 
tyranny and monarchy, as to find it very difficult to separate them. It may, 
therefore, be requisite to give the head of such a constitution as I propose, 
some title apparently more moderate ; but, if all things were once adjusted, 
I believe strong arguments might be produced for admitting the name of 
KING, which I conceive would be attended with some material advantages." 

This communication must have been deeply distressing to Washington, 
who had so often defended his companions in arms against the insinuations 
and suspicions of their countrymen — jealous as they were (and, as he must now 
have acknowledged, not altogether Avithout reason) of the dangers to be 
dreaded from the maintenance of a standing army. Yet he was but too well 
aware of the long though unavoidable neglect, and cruel extremity of suffer- 
ing, that had extorted the movement ; and thus his reply, full of a noble stern- 
ness, is softened by the expression of compassionate regard. 

" Sir, " Newhurg, 22 May, 1782. • 

With a mixture of great surprise and astonishment I have read 
with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my perusal. Be as- 
sured, sir, no occurrence in the course of the Avar has given me more painful 
sensations, than your information of there being such ideas existing in the 
army as you have expressed, and I must view Avith abhorrence and repre- 



1781.] GREENE'S DIFFICULTIES IN THE SOUTH. 525 

hend v/itli severity. For tlie present, the communication of tliem will rest 
in my own bosom, unless some further agitation of the matter shall make a 
disclosure necessary. 

" I am much at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have 
given encouragement to an address, which to me seems big with the greatest 
mischiefs that can befall my country. If I am not deceived in the knowledge 
of myself, you could not have found a person to whom your schemes are more 
disagreeable. At the same time, in justice to my own feelings, I must add, 
that no man possesses a more sincere wish to see ample justice done to the 
army than I do ; and as far as my jDowers and influence in a constitutional 
way extend, they shall be employed to the utmost of my abilities to effect it, 
should there be any occasion. Let me conjure you, then, if you have any 
regard for your country, concern for yourself or posterity, or respect for me, 
to banish these thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from 
yourself or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature. I am, sir, &c., 

George "Washington." 

From the camp at Newburgh let us now glance at that of Greene, After 
the surrender of Cornwallis the ojDerations of the southern army were desul- 
tory and unconnected, and had for their object only to harass and keep in 
check an enemy now confined to the walls of Charleston and Savannah. Yet 
the labours of Greene were still arduous, and his trials severe. His troops, 
no longer actively occupied, and left almost in a state of destitution, became 
discontented and mutinous. His letters at this period present a deplorable 
picture of their condition. " I would order," says he to the secretary of war, 
'' the returns you require, but we really have not paper enough to make 
them out,, not having had, for months past, even paper to make provision re- 
turns, or to record the necessary returns of the army. Since we have been 
in the lower country, through the difficulty of transportation, we have been 
four weeks without ammunition, Avhile there was plenty of this article in 
Charlotte. "\Ye lay within a few miles of the enemy without six rounds a 
man. Had they got knowledge and availed themselves of our situation, they 
might have ruined us. You can have little idea of the confusion and dis- 
order which prevail among the southern States. Our difficulties are so 
numerous and our wants so pressing, that I have not a moment's relief from 
the most painful anxieties." He had moreover the chagrin of knowing, that, 
while the British generals at least did justice to his great abilities, the secre- 
tary at war had entertained prejudices against him. " However mortifying 
these things were," thus he writes, " my pride would not suffi?r me to unde- 
ceive you, and such was my situation at the time, that it would have been 
difficult, if not impossible, had I attempted it. ISIy military conduct must 
speak for itself. I have only to observe, that I have not been at liberty to 
folloAv my own genius until lately, and here I have had more embarrassment 
than it is proper to disclose to the world. Let it suffice to say, that this part of 
the United States has had a narrow escape. / Jiave been seven monilts in the 



626 GREENE'S RECEPTION IN CHARLESTON. [1781. 

Jield, toithoiit taking off mij clothes one nif/Itf.'' Amidst these distresses 
some of the soldiers became tainted with treason ; a plot was formed for seiz- 
ing and giving him up to the enemy, but being discovered in time, the ring- 
leader was tried and executed. It was consoling to find tliat no native 
American was concerned in this conspiracy. 

The hour at length drew near when the southern army was to repose from 
its long and arduous toils. The British evacuated Savannah in July, and 
announced their intention of speedily withdrawing from Charleston. Being 
unwisely refused the necessary supplies, they were compelled to send out 
foragers, and the younger Laurens was unhappily cut off in a skirmish. Be- 
fore the year closed the British had for ever left the soil of Carolina, and 
Greene was received by the inhabitants of Charleston with demonstrations of 
a respect and attachment only second to that bestow^ed on Washington him- 
self. As he entered the city at the head of a body of cavalry, the spectators 
at first gazed in silence upon the brilliant hero of the south, the deliverer of 
Carolina, the adversary of the redoubtable Cornwallis, till one universal and 
enthusiastic shout arose from that vast assemblage. Balis, banquets, and 
festive entertainments, all that a grateful and generous people coidd devise 
for his amusement, succeeded. Nor was it a mere temporary ebullition of 
thankfulness. The southern States showed their sense of his services by 
other and more substantial rewards. From South Carolina he received au 
estate worth ten thousand pounds, from Georgia another of half that value, 
and from North Carolina an extensive tract of land in what is now the State 
of Tennessee. 

In describing the revolutionary war, our attention has of necessity been 
principally fixed upon the most important movements, and their most con- 
spicuous theatre, the older and more civilized States. But on the western 
frontier of civilization, ever since the beginning of the struggle, had been 
waged a fierce and barbarous war of extermination between the settlers and 
the Indians, stimulated by Tory intrigue and British gold. Many elements of 
discord entered into this contest, and contributed to inflame it to the highest 
pitch of ferocity. The unlawful encroachments of the Americans upon the 
lands belonging to the Indians, the wrongs and insults the latter had en lured, 
predisposed them to listen to the emissaries of the British government. The 
Tories, in the violence of party feeling, had often been treated with great 
cruelty by the Bepublicans, and felt that it was between them a struggle for 
life and death. It is not clear to whom the guilt belongs of first engaging the 
Indians in the war. In the very outset of the quarrel Congress had resolved 
to enlist a body of Indian warriors, and perhaps this circumstance may have 
led the British ministers to adopt, by way of reprisal, a measure so indig- 
nantly denounced by the eloquence of Burke and Chatham. One thing is 
clear, that while Congress afterwards desired to induce the Indians to ob- 
serve a peaceful neutrality, the emissaries of Great Britain in the west per- 
sisted in using every effort to stimulate their ferocity, by promises of gold and 
plunder, and by offering a premium for the scalps of the American rebels. 



1T81.] • LIFE OF THE FRONTIER SETTLERS. 527 

Some of the consequences of this horrid and revolting policy, have al- 
ready appeared in the destruction of Wyoming and the ravages of the 
frontier settlements. But until the close of the war they were destined to 
know no respite from incessant alarm. The animosity thus enkindled was 
satisfied with nothing short of mutual extermination. The historian would 
gladly pass over scenes so humiliating to human nature, but that without 
them it is impossible to give a correct idea of those dreadful times, and of 
the demoniac feelings called into activity by civil war. 

Of the condition of the frontier settlers during the war, a vivid picture is 
given by Monette in his History of the Mississippi Valley, a work to which we 
have been already largely indebted. " The flame of Indian war was lighted 
up simultaneously west of the mountains and against all the settlements upon 
the waters of the Ohio. These feeble settlements, remote from the dense 
population and from succour, without defence or support, were thrown, as an 
isolated portion of the States, entirely upon their own resources, for the sup- 
port of their families in the wilderness, and for the protection of their homes 
and lives from savage massacre and rapine. Unprovided with the means of 
regular warfare, they were compelled to associate for mutual protection and 
defence with the limited means at command. Surrounded by hostile savages 
in every quarter, Avhose secret approaches and whose vengeance none could 
foresee or know, they were compelled to depend upon their own courage and 
energy of character, in order to maintain an existence against the extermin- 
ating warfare of these allies of the British king. The mode of Indian Avar- 
fare itself suggested their only course. To protect themselves from midnight 
slaughter, they were compelled to secure themselves in forts and stations, 
where the women and children could enjoy comparative security, while the 
men, armed always in the Indian manner, went out to meet the enemy in 
their secret approach and in their hiding-places, whether in the recesses of 
the mountains or in the dense forests. Every residence, however humble, 
became thus a fortified station ; every man, woman, and child, able to raise a 
gun, or axe, or club, in case of assault, became a combatant in defence of 
their castle, and every able-bodied man or youth was a soldier of necessity. 
During hostilities every day was spent in anxious apprehension, and each 
night was a time of suspense and watching, uncertain who might survive the 
night. Life, in such a condition, was a forced state of existence against the 
dangers of the tomahawk and rifle, for no retreat was safe, no shelter secure, 
and no caution eflectual, against the insidious advances and midnight sallies 
of the ever-watchful savage. The private paths, the springs, the fields, and 
the hunting-grounds were all waylaid bv parties of Indians, who remained 
quietly in their hiding-places for days to secure the devoted victim who 
might incautiously frequent those places. To <:u^ OiT supplies, the gardens 
and the fields were laid waste at night, the stock were killed in the woods, 
and the game was destroyed around them by lurking savages. The bear 
and the panther, and the most ravenous beasts of prey, were less an object of 
dread than the Indian, thirsting for human blood, and bent on extermination. 



528 Cruelties of the Indians and toiues. [i:si, 

"Every recent massacre of helpless innocence and female Aveakness; every 
ruined family ; every depredation and conflagrated dwelling ; every daring 
incursion and new alarm, served but to increase the white man's terror of the 
horrid warfare, and to stimulate his vengeance to deeds of blood against the 
omnipresent foe. To remain at home and in their fortified stations, was to 
starA'B and make themselves an easy prey to their enemies, or to invite an 
attack from xmited numbers, which would overwhelm all in one promiscuous 
carnage ; hence the active, the strong, and the daring, scoured the woods for 
miles in every direction, to discover any approaches that might be made, and, 
in case of large numbers discovered, to give the alarm, and prevent surprise 
to-the respective stations. 

"Wl.ere offensive operations in force required, when no regular government 
existed, and -where no military organization had been formed, each man 
volunteered his individual patriotism, and devised ways and means for the 
general defence ; each man became a private soldier, supplied and equipped 
himself, and entered the expedition to aid in the enterprise. The bold and 
experienced were, by general consent, placed in command, and all submitted 
with a cheerful obedience. If the object was the destruction of a remote Indian 
town, probably two hundi'ed miles distant, and known to be the dwelling- 
place of hostile bands, which had repeatedly laid waste the settlements with 
conflagration and blood, all were eager to engage in the enterprise; fathers, 
sons, brothers, and relatives, all were ready to march to the destruction of the 
devoted town. Where the numbers required were less than the voluntary 
lev)^, the leader selected the chosen men and the skilful warriors, leaving the 
remainder to defend the stations. Thus a portion of the pioneers were com- 
pelled to seek danger at a remote distance, in order to secure safety for those 
at home." 

It is a melancholy fact, that some of the renegade Tories, who, outcasts 
from their own people, and adopting the manners of the Indians, became 
their instigators and leaders during the M'ar, committed atrocities which 
revolted even their savage allies. An instance of this may be cited from the 
history of Schoharie Valley. " When Sir John Johnson and his half-bred 
Indian confederate Brant were ravaging this valley, an infant happened to 
be carried off. The frantic mother followed them as far as the fort, but could 
get no tidings of her child. On the morning after the departure of the in- 
vaders, and while General Van Ransselaer's officers Avere at breakfast, a young 
Indian came bounding into the room, bearing the infant in his arms, and a 
letter from Captain Brant, addressed to ' The commander of the rebel army.' 
The letter Avas as folloAvs : ' Sir — I send you by one of my runners the child 
which he Avill deliver, that you may know that AvhatCA^er others may do, /do not 
make war upon Avomen and children. I am sorry to say, that I haAX those en- 
gaged Avith me who are more savage than the savages themseh-es.'" That 
such Avas often the case, the following story gives painful evidence : " A 
party of Indians in the British employ had entered a house, and killed and 
scalped a mother and a large family of children. They had just completed 



1781.] DEATH OF CORNSTALK AND HIS SON. 529 

their work of death, when some royalists belonging to their party came up 
and discovered an infant still alive in its cradle. An Indian warrior, noted 
for his barbarity, approached the cradle Avith uplifted hatchet; the babe looked 
up in his face and smiled; the feelings of nature triumphed over the ferocity of 
the savage, the hatchet fell from his hands, and he was in the act of stooping 
down to take the infant in his arms, when a royalist, cursing the Indian for 
his humanity, took up the child on the point of his bayonet, and as he held it 
up, struggling in the agonies of death, he exclaimed, ' This, too, is a rebel.' " 

It was the inevitable consequence of this deadly warfare between the whites 
and the Indians, that the peaceful and unoffending were dragged into the 
quarrel, or made to pay the penalty of wrongs inflicted by others. Driven to 
madness by the outrages of savages and Tories, the frontier settlers gave way 
to an indiscriminate spirit of revenge. Thus perished Cornstalk, one of the 
bravest and noblest of the sachems, who after fighting against the Americans 
at the battle of Kenhawa, had voluntarily come to Fort Pleasant to warn the 
commander of approaching danger. This disinterested service was requited 
by his being detained as a hostage by the commandant, and while thus in 
custody, and his son Ellenipsico had come to inquire what was become of him, 
a party of militia, enraged at some murders committed in the neighbourhood, 
burst into the fort and declared their intention of putting all the Indians to death. 
" Cornstalk was conversing with some of the officers, and delineating the region 
north of the Ohio on the ground, when apprized of their murderous intent. At 
their approach, Ellenipsico appeared agitated, but the veteran chief bade him 
not to fear death ; ' My son,' he said, ' the Great Spirit has seen fit that we 
should die together, and has sent you here to that end — it is his will — let 
us submit.' The murderers had now arrived, the old chief turned round to 
meet them, when, shot through the body with seven balls, he fell and expired 
without a struggle." Ellenipsico met his fate with great composure, and was 
shot upon the seat on which he was sitting when he received the announce- 
ment of his fate. 

Such, also, was the unhappy lot of the Christian Indians converted by the 
Moravian missionaries. Their village happened to be half way between the 
white settlements and the hostile Indian towns, so that it became next to im- 
possible to preserve a strict neutrality. Both parties required their aid 
and assistance, and if from motives of compassion they gave shelter to fugi- 
tives from either, they Avere considered guilty of a breach of neutrality. 
Menaced more than once by the whites, they had been actually dispersed by 
the Indians, but had returned again to their village and engaged in the peace- 
ful occupation of husbandry. But their doom could no longer be averted. 
Depredations having been committed by some of the hostile Indians upon the 
whites, the latter, on the pretext that either the marauders must have been 
Moravians, or at least were sheltered in their village, determined to destroy 
this peaceful and unoffending people. A body of volunteers, under the com- 
mand of Colonel Williamson, stole suddenly upon them as they were reaping, 
and professing peace and friendship, informed them that they were come to 

3 T 



530 MURDER OF THE 3I0RA VIAN INDIANS. [1781. 

conduct them for protection to Fort Pitt. The Indians cheerfully complied, 
surrendered their arms, and prepared breakfast for their protectoi's before de- 
parting on the journey. At length they arrived, and were confined in two 
houses under a strong guard. 

" After the prisoners were thus secured, a council of war was held to de- 
cide upon their doom. The officers, unwilling to incur the whole re- 
sponsibility of the terrible decision, agreed to refer the question to the M-hole 
number of men engaged in the expedition. The men were accordingly 
paraded in a line, and the commandant. Colonel Williamson, then put the 
following question to them : ' Shall the Moravian Indians be taken prisoners 
to Pittsburgh, or shall they be put to death ? All those who are in favour of 
saving their lives, step forward and form a front rank.' Only sixteen or 
eighteen stepped forward. The line for vengeance greatly outnumbered that 
of mercy, and the fate of the innocent and defenceless Indians was sealed. 
They were informed that they must prepare for death. They were not sur- 
prised at the summons ; for, from the moment they were placed in the guard- 
house, they anticipated their fate, and had commenced their devotions with 
hymns, prayers, and exhortations to each other to place a firm reliance on the 
Saviour of men. 

" When their fate was announced to them, these devoted people embraced 
and kissed each other, and bedewing each other's faces and bosoms with their 
tears, asked pardon of the brothers and sisters of any ofiEence they may have 
committed through life. Thus at peace with God and each other, they re- 
plied to those who, impatient for the slaughter, demanded ' Whether they 
were ready to die?' * That, having commended their souls to God, they were 
ready to die.' " No sooner had they done so, than they were butchered in 
cold blood by their treacherous captors, and their mangled bodies consumed 
in the flames of their own homesteads. 

Nor was this enough. A new expedition set out to complete the destruc- 
tion of the Christian Indians by assailing Sandusky, and also to include the AVy- 
andots in their attack. It was waylaid and defeated by a superior force. Several 
prisoners, among whom was Colonel Crawford, being taken, the exasperated 
Wyandots took a fearful revenge for the atrocious massacre at Gnadenhutten. 
In spite of the endeavours of Girty to save his life, Crawford was burned to 
death with the severest tortures which Indian cruelty could invent. 

When the news of this massacre reached Franklin at Paris, it elicited the 
following letter, in which, while he does not attempt to palliate the cruelty of 
his oAvn countrvmcn, he attributes it mainly to the policy of the British 
ministers, instigated, a he believed, by George III. himself. The letter is 
addressed to Mr. Hutton, a man of the greatest worth and respectability, for 
many years secretary to the Society of Moravians in England. 

*^My old and dear Friend, Passr/, July 7, ITSS. 

A letter written by you to M. Bertin, Ministre d'Etat, containing an 
account of the abominable murders committed by some of the frontier people 



1781.] FIGHTING WITH THE INDIANS IN KENTUCKY. 531 

on the poor Moravian Indians, has given me infinite pain and vexation. The 
dispensations of Providence in this world puzzle my weak reason ; I cannot 
comprehend why cruel men should have been permitted thus to destroy their 
fellow-creatures. Some of the Indians may be supposed to have committed 
sins, but one cannot think the little children had committed any worthy of 
death. Why has a single man in England, who happens to love blood, and 
to hate Americans, been permitted to gratify that bad temper by hiring Ger- 
man murderers, and joining them with his own, to destroy, in a continued 
course of bloody years, near 100,000 human creatures, many of them possessed 
of useful talents, virtues, and abilities, to which he has no pretension ! It is 
he who has furnished the savages with hatchets and scalping knives, and 
engages them to fall upon our defenceless farmers, and murder them with 
their wives and children, paying for their scalps, of which the account kept 
in America already amounts, as I have heard, to near tivo thousnml ! Perhaps 
the people of the frontiers, exasperated by the cruelties of the Indians, have 
been induced to kill all Indians that fall into their hands without distinction ; 
so that even these horrid murders of our poor Moravians may be laid to his 
charge. And yet this man lives, enjoys all the good things this world can 
afford, and is surrounded by flatterers who keep even his conscience quiet by 
telling him he is the best of kings." 

About the same time a large body of Indians under the command of Simon 
Girty, one of the most desperate and implacable of the refugees, having made 
a fresh incursion into Kentucky, were pursued and imprudently attacked, 
while lying in ambush, at the Big Blue Lick. Taken at a disadvantage, 
the Kentuckians sustained a loss of nearly seventy in killed and wounded, 
and this bloody skirmish spread mourning throughjthe whole State, most of 
the best families having some relative engaged in the combat. Similar incur- 
sions on the part of the Cherokee Indians and Tories were repressed by 
General Pickens. The camp of General Wayne was attacked by a body of 
Creek Indians, who were however repulsed, and the western frontiers ob- 
tained an interval of repose. 

Meanwhile the uneasiness of the northern army, given up by inaction to 
brood over their sufferings, increased with the progress of the negociation for 
peace. A memorial was drawn up requiring Congress to give security for ful- 
filling their engagements, and also proposing a commutation of a certain sum 
instead of the half pay for life. To this proposition no definite or satisfactory 
answer was, nor could be, returned. Some members were desirous that 
Congress should assume the responsibility of satisfying the claims of the army, 
and others disposed to call upon the States to discharge their unsettled obli- 
gations. Between one and the other, the ofiicers despaired of obtaining re- 
dress, and some of those more active in the movement employed a young and 
talented writer (afterwards ascertained to be Major Armstrong) to draw up 
certain anonymous letters, known as the " Newburgh Addresses," to stimu- 
late the army to more energetic remonstrances, and extort from the fears of 
Congress, what its weakness and disunion had prevented it from granting-. 

3 T 2 



532 WA8HIN0T0N'8 ADDRESS TO THE SOLDIERS. [1T81. 

Tlie style of tlie letters was vivid and impassioned^ and in the excited state of 
the array calculated to produce a deep and dangerous fermentation. After 
exposing with great energy their hopeless wrongs, the writer demands of his 
fellow-soldiers, " Can you then consent to be the only sufferers by the revo- 
lution, and retiring from the field grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and 
contempt ? Can you consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, 
and owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity which has hitherto been 
spent in honour ? If you can go and carry with you the jest of Tories and 
the scorn of Whigs, the ridicule, and what is worse, the pity of the world ! 
go, starve, and be forgotten." 

Wasliington had a difficult and delicate task to perform. In his general 
orders he expressed his disapprobation of the anonymous letters and the 
proposed meeting at a ncAv building called the Temple, and requested that 
the delegates from the whole army should assemble. Meanwhile, he took 
occasion privately to confer with the principal officers, and represent to them 
in the strongest colours the mischievous effect of any rash and premature 
measures, the dictates of passion and resentment. Having thus prepared 
their minds to listen to the voice of reason, at the appointed hour he repaired 
to the Temple, and stepped forth upon the platform in presence of his 
officers. There was a deep and solemn silence. Putting on his spectacles, 
he said, " You see, gentlemen, that I have not only grown gray, but blind 
in your service." This simple remark touched them to the heart. For years 
had they borne the toil and burden of Avar under the leadership of their 
venerated chief, upon the purity of whose motives no shade ever rested, of 
the kindn'ess of whose heart no one among them ever entertained a doubt. 
His empire over their feelings was irresistible, and as he read to them an 
address embodying the results of calm and earnest reflection, the mist fell 
from their eyes, and the step to which they had been goaded by insupport- 
able distress appeared in its legitimate colours. After dwelling at some 
length upon the incendiary character of the anonymous letters, he turned to 
the advice which their author had not hesitated to offer. " ' If peace takes 
place, never sheathe your swords,' says he, ' vmtil you have obtained full and 
ample justice.' This dreadful alternative of either deserting our countiy in 
the extremest hour of her distress, or turning our arms against it — which is 
the apparent object — unless Congress can be compelled into instant com- 
pliance, has something so shocking in it, that humanity revolts at the idea. 
]\Iy God ! what can this writer have in view by recommending such measures ? 
Can he be a friend to the army ? Can he be a friend to this country ? Eather, 
is he not an insidious foe ? some emissary, perhaps, from New York, plot- 
' ting the ruin of both, by sowing the seeds of discord and separation between 
the civil and military powers of the continent ? And what a compliment does 
he pay to our understandings, when he recommends measures, in either, 
alternative, impracticable in their nature!" 

Not satisfied with thus denouncing the intemperate rashness of the author, 
he applied himself to assuage the feelings and rekindle tlie hopes of his audi- 



IIU.IPUBLIC ENTRY OF THE AMERICANS INTO NEW YORK. 533 

tors. " Let me request you," he continued, " to rely on the plighted faith 
of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions 
of Congress, that previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause 
all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions 
which were published to you two days ago, and that they will adopt the most 
effectual measures in their power to render ample justice to you for your 
faithful and meritorious services. And let me conjure you, in the name of 
our common country, as you value your own sacred honour, as you respect 
the rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national character 
of America, to express your own utmost horror and detestation of the man 
who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our 
country, and who wickedly attempts to open the flood-gates of civil discord 
and deluge our rising empire in blood. By thus determining, and, thus acting, 
you will pursue the plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes ; 
you will defeat the insidious designs of our enemies, who are compelled to 
resort from open force to secret artifice, you will give one more distin- 
guished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superior 
to the most complicated sufferings ; and you will, by the dignity of your con- 
duct, afford occasion for posterity to say, Avhen speaking of the glorious 
example you have exhibited to mankind, ' Had this day been wanting, the 
world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is 
capable of attaining.' " Having terminated this address, which was listened 
to in breathless silence, Washington departed without uttering another 
word. Under the influence of feelings thus awakened, the officers passed a 
vote declaring their unshaken attachment to their chief, and their confidence in 
the justice of their country, denouncing the insidious attempt that had been 
made to tempt them from the path of their allegiance. 

In no instance probably did Washington render a greater service to his 
country, than in thus repressing the spirit of revolt in the army. Fortunately, 
as has been well observed, he was placed by his ample private fortune above the 
temptation of want, and the confusion and excitement of mind that the fear of 
want is so liable to produce. But he was not satisfied with having recalled 
the suffering troops to a sense of duty, but continued to plead their cause 
tmtil that justice, which indeed was only delayed for want of means, had 
been fully and satisfactorily granted. 

While arrangements were making by Sir Guy Carleton, who had replaced 
Clinton, for the evacuation of New York, Washington paid a visit to the 
scenes of Burgoyne's defeat and surrender, and on this occasion is said to have 
called attention to a plan for that water communication wath the west, which 
has since been so magnificently carried out in the New York and Erie canal. 

At length, on the morning of the 25th of November, the last British soldier 
having departed, the American officers, civil and military, made their public 
entry into New York, amidst the general rejoicing of the people. A few 
days afterwards, Washington prepared to set out on his journey home. One 
trial of his feelings yet remained — to take leave, perhaps for ever, of those 



534 WASHINGTON TAKES LEA VE OF HIS OFFICERS. [1781. 

brave companions in arms to whom he had become endeared by the toils and 
trials of seven eventful years. This affecting scene cannot be better de- 
scribed than in the very words of Marshall. " At noon, the principal officers 
of the army assembled at Frances's tavern, soon after which their beloved 
commander entered the room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. 
Filling a glass, he turned to them and said, ' "With a heart full of love and 
gratitude I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish, that your latter 
days may be as prosperous and happy, as your former ones have been glori- 
ous and honourable.' Having drunk, he added, ' I cannot come to each of 
you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will come and take 
me by the hand.' General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. "Washing- 
ton, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand and embraced him. In the 
same affectionate manner he took leave of every succeeding officer. The 
tear of manly sensibility was in every eye ; and not a word was articulated to 
interrupt the dignified silence and the tenderness of the scene. Leaving the 
room, he passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked to "White Hall, 
where a barge waited to convey him to Paulus Hook. The whole company 
followed in mute and solemn procession with dejected countenances, testify- 
ing feelings of delicious melancholy, which no language can describe. Having 
entered the barge, he turned to the company, and waving his hat, bid them 
a silent adieu. They paid him the same affectionate compliment ; and after 
the barge had left them, returned in the same solemn manner to the place 
where they had assembled." 

Congress having adjourned from Princeton to Annapolis in Maryland, 
Washington proceeded thither by easy stages, welcomed as he passed along 
by public addresses and every mark of affectionate regard. How different 
were now his feelings to those with which, seven years before, he had been 
compelled to retreat over the same country in the darkest hour of the revolu- 
tion, before the pursuit of the victorious English. Then the cause of liberty 
might well have seemed on the verge of extinction ; now it was secure and 
triumphant. On reaching the seat of Congress he deposited in the con- 
troller's office an account of his expenses, and informed the president that he 
was ready to resign his commission, in whatever way might be deemed most 
suitable by that illustrioiis body. They at once decided on a public recep- 
tion ; and at the appointed hour, the hall being crowded by anxious spec- 
tators, and the members of Congress being seated, Washington was conducted 
to a chair by the secretary. After a few moments' pause, the President ap- 
prized him that the United States, in Congress assembled, were prepared to 
receive his communication. Rising with that majestic dignity which clothed 
his every action, he briefly congratulated the assembly upon the happy 
termination of the war, resigned with satisfaction an appointment accepted 
with diffidence, and thus concluded his address : " Having now finished the 
work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action, and bidding an 
affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I have so long 
acted, I here offer my commission, and take leave of all the employments of 



1781.] ADDRESS OF CONGRESS TO WASHINGTON. 635 

public life." He then stepped forward to the chair of the President, and 
deli"vering his commission into his hands, awaited, while standing, the follow- 
ing impressive reply. It was a striking circumstance that this address was 
delivered by MifHin, the lately elected President of Congress, and one of 
those who, as it was believed, when Washington's fair fame lay under a cloud, 
was among the most active and influential of his enemies. 

" Sir," said Mifflin, " the United States, in Congress assembled, receive 
with emotions too affecting for utterance, the solemn resignation of the authority 
under which you have led their trooj)s, with sviccess, through a perilous and 
doubtful war. Called upon by your country to defend its invaded rights, you 
accepted the sacred charge before it had formed alliances, and while it was 
without funds or a government to support you. You have conducted the great 
military contest with wisdom and fortitude, invariably regarding the rights of 
the civil power through all disasters and changes. You have, by the love and 
confidence of your fellow-citizens, enabled them to display their martial genius, 
and transmit their fame to posterity. You have persevered until these United 
States, aided by a magnanimous king and nation, have been enabled, under 
a wi?e Providence, to close the war in freedom, safety, and independence ; 
on which happy event we sincerely join you in congratulations. Having 
defended the standard of liberty in this Ncav World, having taught a lesson 
useful to those who feel oppression, you retire from the great theatre of ac- 
tion with the blessings of your fellow-citizens. But the glory of your virtues 
will not terminate with your military command ; it will continue to animate 
remotest ages." 

Having deposed the burden of care, Washington retired to Mount Verncn, 
which, except on hurried occasions, he had not visited for eight years and a 
half. He had become, to use his own words, " a private citizen on the banks 
of the Potomac, under the shadoAV of his own vine and his own fig-tree, free 
from the bustle of a camp and the busy scenes of public life." Yet it was 
long " ere he could get the better of his usual custom of ruminating, as 
soon as he waked in the morning, on the business of the ensviing day, and of 
his surprise at finding, after revolving many things in his mind, that he was 
no longer a j)ublic man, nor had any thing to do with public transactions." 

As he had at first entered upon the discharge of his duties with a firm 
reliance upon the support of Providence, and as he had recognised its work- 
ings in the surprising turns and events of the war, so now did he feel as " the 
wearied traveller must do, who, after treading many a painful step with a 
heavy burden on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, having reached the 
haven to which all the former were directed, and from his house-top is look- 
ing back and tracing with an eager eye the meanders by which he had 
escaped the quicksands and mires which lay in his way, and into which none 
but the all-powerful Guide and Dispenser of human events could have pre- 
vented his falling." 

The war was over — the army disbanded — and the independence of the United 
States achieved. Other nations have attained distinction after undergoing a 



536 GROWTH OF THE REPUBLIC. [1781. 

long and protracted struggle with feudal oppression, — the Great Republic 
sprung, Minerva-like, into sudden and full-grown existence. But the glori- 
ous prospect now opening before her, cannot be better described than in the 
words of him who had mainly contributed to her emancipation. 

" The citizens of America, placed in the most enviable condition, as the 
sole lords and proprietors of a vast tract of continent, comprehending all the 
various soils and climates of the world, and abounding with all the necessaries 
and conveniences of life, are now, by the late satisfactory pacification, 
acknowledged to be possessed of absolute freedom and independency. They 
are, from this period, to be considered as the actors on a most conspicuous 
theatre, which seems to be peculiarly designated by Providence for the dis- 
play of human greatness and felicity. Here they are not only surrounded 
with every thing which can contribute to the completion of private and 
domestic enjoyment, but Heaven has crowned all its other blessings, 
by giving a fairer opportunity for political happiness than any other nation 
has ever been favoured with. Nothing can illustrate these observations more 
forcibly, than a recollection of the happy conjuncture of times and circum- 
stances under which our republic assumed its rank among the nations. The 
foundation of our empire was not laid in the gloomy age of ignorance and 
superstition ; but at an epocha when the rights of mankind were better un- 
derstood, and more clearly defined, than at any former period. The researches 
of the human mind after social happiness have been carried to a great ex- 
tent ; the treasures of knowledge, acquired by the labours of philosophers, 
sages, and legislators, through a long succession of years, are laid open for 
our use, and their collected wisdom may be happily aj)plied in the establish- 
ment of our forms of government. The free cultivation of letters, the un- 
bounded extension of commerce, the progressive refinement of manners, the 
growing liberality of sentiment, and above all, the pure and benign light of 
Kevelation, have had a meliorating influence on mankind, and increased the 
blessings of society. At this auspicious period the United States came into 
existence as a nation ; and if their citizens should not be completely free and 
happy, the fault will be entirely their own." 



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